


Beautiful Minds

by thePigeoning



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Female pronouns for Pidge, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance deserves better 2k17, Langst, Mind Meld, Not Canon Compliant, OCs as far as the eye can see, Pidge is Canadian, Pining Keith (Voltron), Torture Recovery, because hunk deserves more love, broken lance, everyone is aged up, it's four or five years since the series, kinda whump, like really it's lance whump, lots of hunk, lots of team voltron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8466769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thePigeoning/pseuds/thePigeoning
Summary: Lance used to be proud of his mental abilities. A pilot. A Paladin. Someone experienced with delving and controlling his mind. But after being captured, and enduring just a single encounter with Haggar, his castle was reduced to rubble.
Rescuing Lance was the easy part - healing him is much, much harder.





	1. The Witch's Work

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly based on [this au idea](http://whumpbby.tumblr.com/post/152439354469/i-love-that-au-how-do-u-image-the-rehabilitation) by [hardlynotever](http://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/152437555360/i-love-that-au-how-do-u-image-the-rehabilitation) and the extention by [whumpbby](http://whumpbby.tumblr.com/post/152439354469/i-love-that-au-how-do-u-image-the-rehabilitation).  
> I deviate a little but still hope you all enjoy!  
> Warning: completely unbeta-ed

How long had it been?

Days? Months? _Centuries_? Who knew. Day did not exist in the room. Neither did night. Just a hazy purple glow that fuzzed around on the edges of Lance’s vision, sometimes dimming so low he was positive that he had lost all vision. He hadn’t been able to see anything for quite a while now, and whenever he turned his head, the view was exactly the same: black.

He could feel inserts in his arm, pulsing some sort of liquid through him, circulating from the machine to him then back. He couldn’t move his arms anyhow, the way they had his hands cuffed to an arch that stood alone in the room.

His memory was fragmented, the only consistency was the reel of visits from the robed creepy lady. _Haggar_. Zarkon’s witch bitch.

Apparently she had taken up residence on the base he was being held on, separate from Zarkon and Co. at the main fleet. It was enough to make Lance feel special at first.

He had tried to be a smartass for about ten minutes before Haggar and her cronies had decided that he wasn’t fun anymore, and had gotten down to the meat of the business: hacking apart his mind.

 _Where is Voltron? Where is Princess Allura? What are Voltron’s weaknesses?_ Each and every visit from the Witch Bitch Squad started with these questions, trying to coax him out of his mental fortress.

At first, Lance had been fairly confident in his mental training that he had undergone in the Castle of Lions, but three minutes into the first interrogation, he was mentally backed into the corner of his own mind, throwing up barricades and hastily produced defenses. Haggar had battered away at them, and each time the druids came around to take a stab at breaking him open like a coconut, Lance could feel that it was loosening at the seams. His sanctuary of sanity in his own mind had been reduced to a shanty with a massive hole in the wall, just waiting to be broken through and ravaged.

All he had left in his arms were the names of his friends, which he fervently held onto. They were names that kept him going. They meant something. _Hunk, Shiro, Pidge, Allura, Keith, and Coran_. That was it. Don’t ask him what they looked like, he couldn’t remember for the life of him. But that was good.

Haggar couldn’t steal from him what he didn’t remember. He could keep them safe.

If they just stayed away.

If they kept safe.

If they just forgot about him.

Stay away.

Be safe.

Forget about me.

Stay Away.

Forget me.

Away.

Forget.

Away.

Away.

Away.

* * *

 

Hunk squinted at his display. “Pidge, you seeing this?”

A window popped up in the corner of the screens of the Yellow Lion, displaying Pidge. She, too, was hunched forward, looking like she was looking at some minute detail on her display. “Looks like a standard colonization to me. Maybe a little heavy on barricade ships for being in an outlying system. What did you say this place was, Coran?”

Coran and Allura were already present on their screens. Coran piped up, “Just your run of the mill mining colony.”

“Somehow I’m not convinced,” Keith said into his mic. “Something feels different.”

“Oh, look out guys,” Pidge smirked, “Keith’s Galra senses are tingling.”

“I will reach through this feed and strangle you!”

“Do it you coward.”

Shiro intervened. “That’s enough. Please focus.”

Pidge crinkled her nose. “Yes, dad.”

“Nevermind, Keith, go on.”

“Paladins!” Allura took her turn to rein her team in. They all cringed back in their seats, and Pidge began to whistle. “The scanners are picking up residual druid energy. They aren’t here, but it’s strong enough that it’s scrambling the scanners. This base must be important enough for them to come around to often.”

They all snapped to attention.

“We may not be able to form Voltron, but I am confident in your individual abilities. I want a tidy operation. Clean them out and find out what makes this base so special.”

The Paladins replied in unison. “Yes Princess.”

Hunk white-knuckled Yellow’s thruster. _No, they weren’t able to form Voltron_. His chest tinged at the thought of the sight of Blue in her hangar: the metal on her head peeled back like tissue paper, the entire cockpit torn out. Pidge and Coran were in the process of fixing her, but their resources were dismal and replacing an entire cockpit was near impossible.

He still had nightmares of the robeast that tore into Blue and swallowed the cockpit whole, throat bulging and then having it settle at the base of its baggy throat, and the way that Lance’s transmission cut out with a startling shriek.

“-and go in. You think you can do that, Hunk?”

He shook his head, “Sorry, what was that Shiro?”

“Since the main base is on a high point of the moon, we’ll need to take out all the ships in the barricade to keep things clean. You and Yellow punch a hole and we follow through. Can you do it?”

Hunk nodded, “Just say when.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He settled back into his chair, easing his hands down on the controls. “Let’s get ‘em, girl.”

The hole punch worked. Everything after that was frustratingly hard.

Without Voltron, taking out ships took twice as long, and when there was an entire barricade ring of them around the moon, that meant a lot of lost time and close calls. Hunk couldn’t keep track of how many times Keith had to swipe fighters off of Yellow’s back, or the amount of times Pidge would swear when Green took a hit.

But finally, after several hours of yelling, explosions, and colourful swears, the last ship blew apart after being hit by Red’s ion canon, and the evacuation shuttles were jetting away from the planet. What was one planet to the Galra? They could afford to lose it now to come back another day, by their logic.

Hunk could hear the squealing of Yellow’s hind right leg, which had been hit by some debris – a small dint had a stray shard of metal scraping over her main frame every time she moved her leg. He cringed at the sound.

The hangar was open, and plenty large enough for the Lions to swoop in and curl up. Black sat as a grim sentinel over Green, Yellow, and Red.

Shiro was careful to keep the other Paladins close on his tail like a string of kittens following their mother. He kept checking over his shoulder to make sure that they were right behind him, and he would pause if any of them lagged behind even by a few feet.

Their video communications had been shot ever since they entered the base, Allura’s voice fizzed out once they landed in the hangar, and any feed the Castle of Lions usually sent their way was non-existent. Druid magic tended to mess with their equipment, no matter where they got it from. On the bright side, however, Pidge’s scanner was working. It blipped and squeaked at her as she moved the transceiver.

“Well,” she said, “If the Civie Galra know how to do anything, it would be how to clear out a place. Holy crow. There’s no one here!”

“Lemme see!” Hunk wormed in ahead of Keith, sticking his head in close to the screen of the scanner. “That’s crazy!”

Pidge scrunched up her nose. “You’re right. One sec.” She tweaked the settings on the screen, all of which were written in Altean. Apparently she had a knack for the language. A couple of bars were adjusted, and an extra command added into the list, and suddenly a solidary dot popped to life on the display.

Keith squished himself between the two, brow furrowed. “Just one?”

“It’s not Galra. I expanded the range of live signs to every warmblood within a twelve klick radius. It could be anything.” Pidge raised her eyes to meet with the rest of the team, “Most likely a prisoner.”

Hunk knew that they were all thinking different things. Pidge probably jumped to the conclusion that it was either Matt or her father. Shiro most likely just accepted the word ‘prisoner’ and locked on, not caring who or what it was. Hunk and Keith, however, definitely shared the same thought, communicated by a sidelong glance each other.

It could be Lance.

It had been months. Every time they got their hopes up, usually they were immediately let down. Shiro never said it, but he might as well have: _he’s dead_.

But Lance was not dead. If they were positive he was dead, they would have looked for a new Blue Paladin. But no. Everyone had seen the robeast not completely swallow. Blue’s cockpit was lodged in the bottom of its throat, but it was not swallowed all the way to the stomach before the thing had fled.

Hunk was no idiot. Biomechanics wasn’t his thing, but he had dislodged enough chicken bones from his dog’s throat to know that it had not been completely down there.

Hunk hefted his bayard. “Let’s go check it out, then.”

They dashed off in direction of the dot, traversing the grid of the base. Alone in the hallways, their boots clacked loudly and their armour rattled with every impact, reverberating down the corridors harshly. It felt like forever before they finally came before the door that separated them from the dot on Pidge’s screen.

The device was squealing like nuts before Pidge stuffed it closed and stowed it away in her bag. She carefully observed the door. “Looks locked. I could hack it.”

“Or Shiro could punch it open,” Keith offered.

“Or he could punch it open,” Pidge parroted. “By crow, Keith, you take all the fun outta stuff.”

Shiro straightened his arm out behind him, allowing the geometric sprawl of light to take over it, turning the whole prosthetic glowing magenta. He thrust his arm forward, spearing directly through the lock mechanism of the door.

The metal whined as Shiro used the super heat to peel the metal back like foil. It had several layers that he had to tear through but he eventually was able to reach his arm around to hit the switch on the other side with his Galra arm.

The door shrieked open, and light from the hall spilled into the room, eliciting a sharp gasp from the occupant, then heavy, uneven breathing.

The prisoner was in a near sitting position – arms stretched out and cuffed to an overhead arch like some sick parody of a crucifix.  He was low enough to the ground that his thighs had contact with the floor, but raised enough that strain was placed on his arms and shoulders from hanging by his wrists.

“I won’t… won’t give... anything…” the prisoner rasped out. “You can’t… you _bitch_ …”

Hunk rushed in, followed directly by the rest of the team. He would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Lance!”

Lance’s head bobbed up, eyes unseeing, then lolled back down. He heaved his chest again, struggling to breathe. “Could’a sworn… Hunk…”

“I’m here, buddy,” Hunk immediately set to work on the cuffs, pulling out a small plasma dagger from his belt. “Keith, Shiro, hold him up!”

Lance cried out when Keith tried lifting him from under his armpits, his breath quickening, face screwed up with pain. “Dammit,” Keith said, shifting his hands to underneath Lance’s legs. He lifted the Blue Paladin to sit atop his leg. “His shoulders are dislocated.” It was easy to see, as only Lance’s torn bodysuit remained – his armour completely gone. Every detail of his emaciated body was etched in the charcoal material. It was completely torn off from his arms and upper body, the torn strips gathered at his waist.

Pidge had begun hacking away at the other cuff with her bayard, hissing and cursing.

Shiro tried radioing in to the Castle Ship to try to signal in help, but to no avail. “The druid magic is still scrambling the comms. He said in frustration. He placed his hand placed behind Lance’s neck, trying to support it best as he could so his head would stop listing to the side and hitting his shoulders. But Lance wasn’t leaning back, so it was useless. They allowed the barely conscious Paladin to choose his direction – whatever was most comfortable for him.

Lance whimpered, slowly leaning forward and came to rest his head in the crook of Keith’s neck. He was heaving breaths, open mouthed, body trying to take in as much air as it could.

“I’ve gotcha,” Keith said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “It’ll be fine.”

Lance managed a weak chuckle into the Red Paladin’s neck. “Hey, Mullet.” Hunk finally got through the cuff he was sawing at, and it snapped open. Lance’s body swung forward on that side, and his chest came in blunt contact with Keith’s chest plate. “Ngh!”

Keith steadied his teammate, taking Lance closer to himself for support. “Just the one left. Shhh.”

Hunk was at his side as well, along with Shiro, and of course, Keith. “Holy crow, Shiro, is he going to be alright?” They both knew one thing – heck they all did. Lance was the reason for the heavy concentration of druid magic. They had hidden him away on an obscure base, then sent the druids to do their dirty work.

Shiro’s face fell. “Only time can tell that, Hunk. But he’s not going to be back on his feet for a while now.”

“Got it!” The cuff Pidge was hacking at cracked open, releasing Lance’s wrist. The Blue Paladin’s left arm dropped. Any normal person would probably cry out from the treatment, but Lance just narrowed his eyes, like it only tinged a little.

“Hey!” Keith snapped at her, “Careful! Weren’t you listening? His shoulders are dislocated!”

“Sorry,” Pidge cringed.

There was a beat where no one said anything. They could’ve fit in a renaissance painting, one of those sad ones that the centrepiece character was injured and draped over their companions, and everyone had doleful looks on their faces.

Lance was still breathing heavily, eyes sealed shut in pain, limp against Keith and Shiro.

Shiro was the one that spurred them all in action. “We need to get him back to a healing pod, stat. Hunk do you think you can carry Lance out?”

Hunk’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Y-yah. Definitely.” He gently leaned forward and scooped Lance from Keith’s hold, bridal style. Hunk was definitely a solid support, and Lance looked so thin and gaunt in the enveloping mass of Hunk’s arms and chest. His greasy hair was matted against his scalp, some was plastered down by a patch of blood.

He also had horrid acne. Never in Hunk’s life had he seen Lance with a pimple, but he had the worst breakout that Hunk had ever witnessed on a human being.

It explained the extensive skin routine.

Lance didn’t make any sounds on their way back to the hangar – he looked sound asleep, to be honest. He wasn’t stiff, so that was a good sign, anyways. Keith and Shiro were constantly looking to make sure that Lance hadn’t disappeared, and Pidge would do strange twirls whilst walking to make it look like she didn’t care, but following her eyes, Hunk could see that she always would have them glued to Lance until he was out of her sight.

The Lions hadn’t moved in the hangar, and Hunk was glad that Yellow was waiting for him closest to the entry to the deck. He made a beeline for her, mentally signalling for her to drop her mouth open so he could take the ramp up.

Yellow purred for him as he came up her ramp. She tried to fill his mind with pleasant thoughts – it was customary for them after a mission. Yellow would play images and memories for him to calm him down. He came in slowly, ducking into the small room behind the cockpit. During the hayday of the Altean Empire, the compartment had been like a bunk room for the Yellow Paladin, used during extensive trips and whenever they needed a rest. To the best of Hunk’s knowledge, all the Lions had such rooms, but none of the Paladins really used them, because of the cramped sizes.

But Hunk was glad for it now as he slid Lance into the bed, drawing the sheet up and securing the straps over his sleeping form. He made sure that the pillow was positioned to give proper support for Lance’s neck.

It suddenly struck Hunk just how vulnerable Lance looked. So boney and sallow, his natural brightness eaten away by God knew what he had been through. Hunk rested his palm on Lance’s forehead for a short moment. _I’m so sorry_.

He could barely tear himself away from his best friend, but Yellow needed to have a pilot, and Lance needed to get back to the Castle as soon as possible.

Hunk thumped down into the pilot’s chair, giving Lance one last look before brining Yellow into a stand.

Shiro led out of the hangar, drawing the other Lions into a close formation after him as they returned to the Castle of Lions. Allura and Coran had piloted it closer, so their communications picked up fast.

 _“Paladins! Are you all alright? I couldn’t get a hold of you!”_ Allura worried on their video feeds.

 _“We’re fine, Princess.”_ Shiro answered, smiling bitterly. _“Can a healing pod be prepped? Lance is hurt pretty bad.”_

 _“Yes, of course we – wait… Lance?”_ Allura’s voice raised an octave in surprise. _“You have him with you? You_ found _him?! Where is he?”_

“My lion, Allura.” Hunk said, drawing her attention to his screen. He glanced back tellingly over his shoulder. “But he’s in pretty bad shape. Like, _really_ bad.”

 _“Yes…”_ She replied, voice suddenly dropping low. _“I’ll have Coran ready a pod immediately.”_

An oppressive silence settled over the Paladins and the Princess as the Lions landed in their own hangars. Coran had sent some refugee volunteers with a gurney to help him with Lance.

Eurelle had once been a physician on her planet before she was imprisoned for treating the wounds of rebels, and Ti Reen was a steady-handed, four arm alien that assisted Eurelle with everything. Apparently they had been a student of medicine before the Galra conquered their planet, then chose them specifically to maim publically to make a point. The webbed patch of puffy scar tissue on their throat was a stark reminder of the vocal cords they no longer possessed.

Hunk allowed Ti Reen to help him get Lance on the hover gurney, but he did the majority of the pushing up the ramps and down hallways as they rushed to the infirmary. Eurelle was taking note of everything about Lance’s condition as they sped down the halls.

It seemed to take forever before they got to the infirmary. The doors opened with that all too familiar sigh, revealing Coran, who had been prepping a healing pod that slid out from the wall like an oversized drawer. All the standing ones were occupied by their latest rescue of prisoners four days prior.

Coran waited grimly for the gurney to hover up the steps. The particle window was already drawn back, ready to receive its patient.

Lance didn’t stir when they lifted, then lowered him into the med pod. He remained in his creased-brow sleep, and continued to do so until Coran sealed the pod and initiated the healing code, assuring that it would reset his shoulders as well.

Hunk sighed, placing his hand on the particle window that held in his best friend.

“He’ll be alright, right, Coran?” He asked. He had already asked Shiro, but his leader’s answer was inconclusive and just plain ominous. Hunk wanted a second opinion.

Coran clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course!” He assured. “These healing pods have done far more than this before! For example, when Blaytz and Trigel, our previous Blue and Green Paladins, got into that accident with the flesh eating plants on the planet Besiel, we had them back to normal in a jiffy! These machines can regrow tissue of all kinds!”

After hearing it from Coran, he didn’t necessarily feel better, but he was somewhat reassured that the answer would not change. _Lance will be alright._


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue tries to help, Keith has a weak stomach, and Pidge has an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just take it  
> _(:3」∠)_

_It was dark. Very dark. But this wasn’t a cruel or harsh dark like before, it was merely neutral. It was like being stuck in a lukewarm tub._

_There was a tha-thump tha-thump noise that beat repeatedly through the dark, much like a heartbeat._

_Lance was curled against the back wall of his fortress, arms braced tightly to his chest and his head drawn down. The darkness felt nice, but if he moved, Lance knew there would be pain. In his shoulders, his diaphragm - and the wound on his head would start to scream again._

_He didn’t want to move, anyways. The ones that had come to move him had done it all, anyways. There was nowhere to go within the confines of Lance’s mind._

_When they had shown up, his team, his friends, he already broke a bit. The roof of his rickety defense had caved in, and the walls were badly damaged. But when they started moving him, and pain exploded in his chest and shoulders and suddenly he was against Keith (He knew because he could smell him. Keith never would own up to it, but he smelled vaguely like cinnamon) and the walls that had protected Lance from Haggar toppled and left him completely exposed._

_Lance’s eyes were open, observing the darkness with a focus he was sure he had never devoted before in his life._

_Wait… there it was._

_Lance tilted his head up just a smidgeon to get a better look._

_It was a source of light in the darkness – a dim light that unfurled like food colouring in water, pulsing with a gentle light in time with the heartbeat tha-thump from the darkness. It grew brighter with every pulse, emerging from the darkness, revealing more and more strands of light that threaded through the black._

_It was weak, pitifully so. Lance could feel it. It was weak like him._

_A thin strand drifted past Lance, floating like a spider’s line._

_It was blue._

_Blue was the colour of his… wait, no, the memory slipped. It was like something very important. Very important._

_Reaching out to him was the barely there conscience of the light, pulsing in time with the heartbeat. Lance’s heartbeat. This patch of quintessence had found its way into his conscience somehow, bringing the darkness away, raising the light of Lance’s mindscape and painting it the same colours as the sunrises back home._

_The quintessence moved towards him, sending small tendrils of light to wrap themselves around Lance, trying form a cradle of filmy strands of blue._

Heal _. It said, going to envelop the Paladin._ Rest. Rest your mind.

_Lance gasped, ignoring the pain in his shoulders and chest and swatting the lines away ferociously. No. Not in his head!_ Don’t fucking touch me! _He shouted._

_With whatever small piece of energy he had left, Lance erected a wall between him and the floating light and its lines. The wall erupted out of the ground, completely made of white bricks and solid as he could make it. It jutted up into the infinite space of above him._

_The light disappeared with a startled snap._

_Lance collapsed onto his hands and knees, not caring about how they screamed._ Not in my mind. No. No no n-no no. _Haggar was pretending! She had tricked him! Haggar was messing with his head. She had made him think that his friends had saved him so she could get in his head._ Don’t let your guard down you idiot! Don’t let her in!

_The boy curled up where he fell, back against the new wall._

You overdid it. _He said to himself._

I’m sorry. _He apologized._ Won’t happen again. But won’t let the Witch Bitch back in. No no nope.

You almost let ‘er get you! Don’t let your guard down! _He scolded himself._

_He was right – what a wise man. Lance could not allow Haggar into his mind. Somehow she had found the voices and smells of his friends._ Good thing I can’t remember what they… look like. _He reassured himself. Good point. Good point._

_But it was at that moment when Lance realized: how would he know his friends if Haggar was changing them slowly? No, he wasn’t going to see them again. Why does that matter?_

_Lance sobbed._

* * *

 

After the mission debriefing, everybody had refused to leave the medical bay. Initially.

After various duties like repairs or forced sleep routines were brought up, the only Paladin left on deck was Pidge.

The other Paladins had been in and out these past few days, slipping in to visit Lance between training and sleeping. Keith usually would stay for a few hours, conversing with Pidge about one thing or another. Hunk would drop in to give her food to munch on while she worked. Shiro didn’t say much when he came, only resting his hand gently on the med pod’s surface, looking over Lance with a pained expression.

Pidge was the only constant companion. Eating and sleeping (albeit very little) by the pod. She wanted to be there to make sure nothing went wrong. And if something did, she would be there to fix it right away.

She wasn’t going to let Lance die just after they got him back.

Pidge was leaning up against the wall, accompanied by her laptop and handheld Altean device. Pidge had been in the middle of a big project for quite some time – a holster for their bayards. It was annoying having to carry her bayard in her hand whenever she wasn’t wearing her full armour, and she knew the others had been annoyed by it as well, so she was working on a simple holster that would strap on over their everyday clothes. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before in their four years of being up in space (maybe five, but who was counting?).

Eurelle and Ti Reen were puttering around, taking readings from all of the med pods in use – which was almost all of them. Occasionally Ti Reen would come around and stare through the glass at Lance before they were called back to help Eurelle with something.

Pidge kept a careful eye on Lance’s pod, even while she was busy with her work.

He could wake up. Something could go wrong. Pidge couldn’t allow that. She had to watch. She had to watch Lance. She had to watch Ti Reen. She had to watch Eurelle.

Eurelle was from a very unique species of alien – rare even on her own planet, or so Coran had said. Her skin was so soft that it was unreal, and it covered her in varying tones, shimmering and changing colour depending on the light in the room. What would constitute as hair in the human species was a short crop of thick black quills that were all only an inch long, and hugged against her head like it was slicked. They made clicking noises whenever Eurelle moved her head. Her entire body was solid and stout, built for endurance and strength. Her facial features were where things got interesting for Pidge. Eurelle’s wide and flat nose had no slope, instead coming straight from her high forehead. Her round eyes were a mix of amber plateaus, and were slit like a cat’s. And her jawline was speckled with grey disks that she had informed them were bits of her exposed skeletal structure.

Her colour-changing skin, however, was usually covered with white clothes of a physician, like today. Her quills were a wonder to run one’s hands through, because of how smooth the spines were, but Eurelle would often slap the hands of those who tried. And she definitely did not exercise, no matter what her body would suggest, and the exposed bone on her jawline wasn’t much of an appropriate conversation starter.

It was only on the third day of Pidge’s vigil that Eurelle come to sit with her.

The woman pulled off her gloves, sighing and stretching her legs out in front of her. She made eye contact with Pidge, then grinned. “I need more assistants,” she said. “It is too much for Ti Reen and I to do alone.”

Ti Reen tapped absently against one of the metal siding of a pod with two fingers. _Hear, hear!_ They seemed to say.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and one of these guys knows a thing or two about healing, eh, Eu?” Pidge indicated to the occupants of the main ring of med pods.

“We can hope,” Eurelle replied to her nickname with a smile. She paused for a few moments, then spoke again, contemplating. “The Blue Paladin should be ready to come out of the pod by now.”

Pidge bolted up, almost dropping her electronics on the ground carelessly. She fumbled her laptop desperately, but once she had it secure against her chest, she squeaked. “Really?! What are we waiting for then? I gotta tell everyone else! I-”

Eurelle reached up and snatched Pidge’s free wrist. “I said he _should_. Not that he _is_.” Pidge huffed dramatically, throwing a glance over to her friend in the pod. “It is why I am concerned.”

Ti Reen came and sat cross-legged on the floor with them. Their four arms moved in fluid motions to communicate with them in what Pidge had once been informed was a kind of universal sign language. _Should wake. Not waking._

“Exactly,” Eurelle said. “By now his body is as well as it was before his capture, but his mind does not wake. It is remaining at a baseline activity. He is not dead, but he does not rise to consciousness.”

Pidge’s brow furrowed. “Hold up a tick…” She spun around, splaying her fingers over the particle window over Lance, opening all the stat windows the pod provided. She skimmed over the numbers and charts and other information, humming discontentedly to herself as she went. It morphed into a growl once she came to her conclusion. “Dammit.”

“What is it?”

“It’s not quite a coma? It’s close but not. He’s thinking but he’s deep in his subconscious? I don’t know. Dammit, Eu, I’m a techie, not a doctor!”

Eurelle scowled at the stats. “Yes. I believe that something is holding him from waking up. Most likely is that Paladin Lance is not quite ready to return to us, and had retreated into his own mind until he is.”

Pidge scoffed. “Lance would come back at the first chance he could.”

Eurelle looked at her sidelong. “But he has not.”

The Green Paladin grimaced. “No, he hasn’t.”

This wasn’t right. Lance wouldn’t hide on them. Pidge backed away from the med pod. “I’m going to talk to Allura. We have to have to do something.”

* * *

 

Keith sprawled out on the cool floor of the common repair hangar for the Voltron Lions, fingers twisting around a sphere with wires that jutted out from it. It had been on Blue’s parts bench, half crushed and unusable. He would put it back, but at the moment he was too bored to find something else to fiddle with.

Shiro was lying up against Black’s foot, eyes closed and with a blissful expression on his face. After their training session with Hunk, he had insisted on coming to the hangar to be with their Lions. Shiro was communing with Black through their mental link, completely unaware of the world around him.

Keith rolled on his side to face Red. She was undergoing some diagnostic tests on her Balmera crystal, so she was slung with thick black cords and wires that ran from the ceiling, glowing with blue light. Keith couldn’t say that a giant robot lion could look contented, but he imagined that’s how she would be feeling with all the pampering that Coran was going out of his way to do for her.

Red hardly ever _talked_ to Keith. Rather, she would share pictures and small snippets of things that she knew, of things she had seen and recorded. Her previous Paladins, mostly. Mazinel, Red’s Paladin during the war. Most times visions would be shone through the eyes of Talne, Mazinel’s predecessor. She was an incredibly short woman, but one that Keith considered to probably be one of Red’s strongest Paladins. Incredibly strong - but she had died in childbirth.

Keith’s fingers curled around the wires of the ball as he shifted back to look at Shiro. He and Black were probably talking about leadership stuff and taking care of everyone on the team.

“Hey Red, want to talk?” He asked, glancing at his lion. She rumbled, and he could feel her consciousness starting to roll over his like a wave, swallowing him up.

Today she just wanted to feel his conscience on hers. Sometimes that’s all they needed to strengthen and solidify their bond. He mentally leaned his awareness against hers, and they circled around each other like actual cats.

Keith allowed his eyes to wander around the hangar, but kept the majority of his attention on his Lion. If he disconnected when she wasn’t ready, it would be incredibly hard on his body. He had accidentally done it before. He had been startled from a nap by Pidge and tore his connection from Red, and he was rewarded with a splitting headache for the reminder of the day, and had difficulty finding his balance.

So he kept his mind on Red but his eyes on the hangar.

Blue was laid out in the corner of the room, out of the way of the other Lions. She had even more wires and cables running from her than Red, resembling a pile of black and grey spaghetti.

_Yes, Red, I’m still here._ He responded to the nudge of his own Lion.

He risked another glance at Blue. Her cockpit had been torn out months ago, but they had struggled to find replacement parts to rebuild a new one – they didn’t exactly make cockpits for giant robotic lions on demand as much as they did 10,000 years ago.

_Red, come on, you know I like you better._ Keith groaned at his partner. She rumbled through their connection, but otherwise remained quiet.  _But… do you think you can patch me through?_ He waited. _You can come with, it’s not like I’m going to abandon you_.

Getting Red to begrudgingly extend their consciences out to Blue was like pulling teeth, but he somehow managed it.

_Blue danced around them when they tried to initiate contact, her conscious, which resembled the flow of water, almost jellyfish-like, twirled through the mindscape. She seemed to be otherwise occupied, sending out tendrils of light in all directions, almost wrapping up Keith and Red._

_Keith pushed the strands aside. He knew from experience that they were harmless._

_Blue’s conscious finally stilled a little, ceasing to grow outwards._

_After a few seconds of her stillness, Keith tried to speak up, but as soon as the words came to mind, Blue’s conscience seized back._

_As if something shocked it, her form jolted, dragging all of her lines back to herself with the sound of a cracking whip. She raced backwards, towards Keith and Red the sound of her distraught conscience overwhelming Keith’s senses. It was ten thousand nails were being dragged down chalkboard. It was millions of voices screaming in pain._

_The pressure in Keith’s mind was building. His head felt ready to burst. So he did the only thing he could._

_He tore himself away from the Lions._

Keith coughed violently, back arching up off the floor. His head felt just about ready to split open, and it hurt see light. Quiznak… that _hurt_!

“Dammit!” He pounded on the floor with his fist.

“Keith, what happened?!” Shiro was immediately by his side, hand on his shoulder. Keith hissed in response. He covered his eyes with his hand, trying to block out all the light. “Keith,” Shiro said again. “Black just suddenly dropped our connection. Then you woke up. Did Red do something?”

Keith shook his head, but instantly regretted it. His temples throbbed terribly. “It… it was Blue. I wanted to check on her and something happened. She started freaking out and I broke off from Red.”

Keith risked squinting to see what was going on with Blue’s corporeal frame. Nothing, at first, but very slowly, fraction by fraction, her joints began to creak.

Blue’s entire frame screeched in protest as she attempted to rise. The cables and wires attached to her slipped and some grew taught, looking about ready to snap as Blue put one foot forward.

She looked like badly broken and suffering marionette doll, dragging herself out of her corner. It was hard to tell, but Keith could swear that she was making the same wailing sounds as her conscience – but it could have just been the machinery in her straining.

“Holy Crow,” Keith breathed.

Shiro looked desperately to his own lion. “Black, stop her!”

Black was already going by the time Shiro had even started to say anything. She bounded across the hangar and stopped Blue in her tracks by standing directly in front of her.

It worked for about ten seconds before Blue ignored Black’s existence and kept inching forward, trying to crawl under the belly of the Black Lion.

Keith lurched forward, his head pounding at all the sudden noise. From the shrieking of Blue’s gears. From Shiro yelling for Black to ‘shut her down’. And finally the all-consuming crash as Blue faltered, her system being forced to sleep by Black, and fell.

* * *

 

Hunk was exhausted.

Keith had pushed him into training relentlessly with him and Shiro, and now he felt ready to melt into a Hunk Puddle™. But he wasn’t about to complain. Nope. Not him.

He was on his way up to the bridge to talk to Coran about possibly restraining Keith, and was right outside of the door when he saw Pidge zip up like a crazy rocket pigeon, her face was set in a twisted expression of sheer determination.

Hunk’s hand shot out on its own accord and caught Pidge by the collar, dragging her back. She was almost taller than him now, but the effect was the same as if she was the same shrimp she was four years ago.

“What are you _doing_?” He asked.

Pidge wacked his hand away. “I’m going to talk to Allura.” She slapped the button on the wall, opening the door to the bridge.

Hunk grabbed her by the collar again, dragging her off to the side by the door, still far away enough from the controls. Allura stood at the holographic controls with Coran, and some of their attendants flitted between the two panels in front.

Pidge straightened out her clothing, then pushed up her glasses with an intended middle finger. “I didn’t come to be attacked. I want to talk about Lance with Allura and Coran.”

Hunk nodded. “Ya, everyone knows about his condition – Eurelle reported to us at dinner yesterday. She said that he would be able to come out of his medical pod soon. If you were there you would’ve known.”

“So yah, about that.” Pidge favoured her right light, bouncing on her heel. “Eurelle did say he’s ready to wake up _now_ , but he’s keeping himself under on purpose in some sort of coma.”

“Humans can do that?”

Pidge shrugged. “Apparently.”

Hunk ran his hand tiredly through his hair, sighing heavily. “What are you thinking?”

Pidge crossed her arms. She tapped her foot and snuck a furtive glance over his shoulder, like she was nervous that one of the alien assistants working at their own stations would eavesdrop. They probably were. “I think we should try to reach him.”

Hunk was unimpressed. “In his coma.”

“Hear me out,” Pidge said. “We could have him still in his pod, but we just stick one of the Mind Meld headsets on him. We all go in and try to pull him out.”

Hunk remained unconvinced. “That might not be the best of ideas.”

Pidge pushed on. She needed Hunk to be on board with this. “In theory, it would work. The pod will support him while we attach the headset, then close up and still be able to transmit the signals needed for a mind meld!”

“But,” Hunk cut in, shushing her, “It could be dangerous. We don’t know what kind of state he’s in. Three months as a Galra prisoner isn’t something to shrug at, especially for a Paladin of Voltron.”

“Lance isn’t a complete pussy.”

“Come on, Pidge, you know how there was tons of Druid magic hanging around the place! They could’ve been messing with him. We need to be careful.”

“That’s why we all go in together,” Pidge countered. “We hang around like in our normal mind meld exercises and just reach out for him. He’ll be sure to join us if we make enough shit puns to draw his attention. We’ll have him back to normal by us acting normal in our mind spaces. It’s sure-fire. Fool proof.”

Hunk hated to do it, but he sighed in resignation. “Fine. Only if Allura thinks it will work.”

“Okay,” Pidge said. Suddenly she raised her voice, waving her arm. “Oi! Allura! I want to talk to you about something!”

Allura stood for a second like a deer caught in the headlights, but she regained her composure.  Coran stood next to her, twirling his mustache at the Paladins. The Princess tilted her head. “Yes?”

Pidge was then rudely interrupted by the sound of an emergency comm. The flashing red screen made everyone jump, and Allura almost reflexively slammed her hand down on the controls and Shiro’s face appeared.

He had his concerned dad face on, and Hunk could see Keith retching in the background.

Pidge scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You didn’t interrupt my brilliant experiment pitch because Keith has a sore stomach, did you?”

“You said it was a sure-fire plan!” Hunk bristled.

“Potato patawto, Hunk.”

“Guys!” Shiro yelled, effectively silencing the two. “It’s not because of Keith. Well, I don’t think so, anyways… it’s Blue.”

Allura furrowed her brows in concern. “What is wrong?”

Shiro shifted in agitation, his eyes constantly flitting to a part of the hangar that was offscreen. “Keith said he and Red were hanging around her conscience when she just snapped and started panicking. Or at least that’s what I’ve gotten over…” Keith retched again, and Shiro cringed, “over his symptoms from ripping away from Red.”

“That’s strange,” Allura said. “Blue panicking – not Keith doing… whatever that is.”

“And that’s not the worst of it.” Shiro scrunched up his face as he reached up to take the camera off the wall panel, directing it to his left. It shook for a moment (remind Hunk not to trust that man with a camera, ever) before it rested on a sight that Hunk was genuinely not expecting.

First of all, Black had left her spot in the hangar, which she hardly ever did. But more noticeably, and far more disturbingly, Blue was sprawled out on the ground, tangled in cables, and her head resting at a unnatural angle, exposing the ravaged cockpit area.

“After she hurt Keith she started to try to move. Black had to run a shutdown sequence on her.” The camera couldn’t move closer, but everybody in the bridge got the gist of it without having to get a closer look.

Hunk swallowed.

Allura looked disturbed, eyes wide and mouth drawn into a tight line.

“Maybe she tried getting to Lance?” Hunk speculated. “With his mind the way it is, Blue might be reacting to his emotional cues.”

“Sounds likely.” Keith commented, voice hoarse. He was staring into the puddle of his own vomit, shakily hanging over it like he was going to add more to it.

Coran nodded. “If Lance’s mind is in pain, Blue would be the first to know. It makes sense that she would try to help him. But it makes no sense that she would try to do so in person. Their mental connection should be enough, unless something’s happened.”

Allura seemed to be thinking deeply, and Hunk cursed silently when Pidge moved in on her, nudging Allura with a finger.

“Princess… I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all scream together on [my tumblr](http://pidge-the-pigeon.tumblr.com/)


	3. The Broken Right Leg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith should have kept his mouth shut, Lance could use more sanity, and Hunk decides to bring the family back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try for angst. This is what I get.  
> It's shorter than I'd like, but okay.  
> NaNoWriMo is cruel to my flimsy and fast plots.  
> (For the record, Ti Reen is referred to as 'they/them' because their species are hermaphroditic)

Pidge could see that Eurelle didn’t like what they were doing with her patient. Ti Reen looked uncomfortable, but they weren’t able to vocally say anything in protest. Eurelle, on the other hand, was capable of words, so when she kept her silence, it made Pidge uneasy.

Allura had _commanded_ that they would be given access to Lance’s pod, and _demanded_ that they would be able to put the mind melding device on him while he was in the medical pod.

So Eurelle hung around the edges of the semi-circle that the Paladins formed beside the pod, scowling and muttering to herself in her native tongue.

Allura watched over them. “Now, Paladins, please bring Lance back to us. And try to figure out the reason for Blue’s behaviour.”

Keith nodded, but looked incredibly uncomfortable. The toll from mentally ripping himself from his lion was making him shaky and sweaty. He had to prop himself on his hands to stay upright.

Pidge forced herself to relax. If she didn’t focus on this, her mind would wander and she’d be picked out for messing up her own experiment. She couldn’t have that. So Pidge straightened her back and closed her eyes.

Entering the Mind Meld was always turbulent. Memories and thoughts flashed around her. _Rusting pots being filled with cloudy well water – a game of cards with friends and family around a huge table – the terrible first taste of a beer - the striking of a baton over cell bars. They didn’t belong to her. They belonged to the others, but there was no possible way to distinguish where one started and where one left off. They all seemed to belong to her as much as them._

_After the rush of memories and thoughts, the sea usually calmed, as it did now. As always, the group was left in an empty space that only consisted of a white eternity and something that acted like a floor but really wasn’t a floor. They just thought it was a floor so it existed as such._

_Shiro was the first one there. He didn’t like staying long in the jumble of memories. Pidge came after him, and Hunk and Keith followed soon after._

_Pidge looked around. Usually the team met up in a blank space that was neutral, and hung between all the Paladins like an island, so it wasn’t too close to any one of their minds. But Allura had changed the settings to gravitate towards Lance._

_Any second they should be arriving in his interpretation of the Mind Meld Scape. Once the machines started to work – ah, there it was._

_The colours of the mind space were pastel pinks and blues and purples that blended together like a foggy sunrise. It was surprising to Pidge that those were the colours that Lance would pick. She pegged him for a blue person._

_Obstructing her view to once side was a giant white wall.  It wasn’t exceptionally long, but it stretched into infinity above them. The bricks were painted white, the grout was a light grey, and it didn’t look like it was very well made. The mortar was separating from between the bricks, falling out in large chunks. Bricks were making their way to the floor via freefall from the flaking mortar._

_Yes, definitely made hastily._

_“This is Lance’s mind?” Keith asked, craning his head to try to look at the top of the wall. “It’s - ”_

_“Minimal?” Pidge prompted, “Contains a useless wall?”_

_“I was going to say ‘small’.”_

_Pidge stifled a laugh at that, but Hunk glared at her, warning him to keep it together. She turned sombre pretty quick. They were here to look for Lance, and bring him back. They weren’t here for team bonding._

_Shiro stepped towards the wall, calling out gently. It was a sliver just above a whisper as he spoke. “Lance?”_

_Nothing._

_Pidge and Keith echoed him, but to no avail. Keith quickly had to stop because of his pain. Since it was both a physical and mental injury that he sustained when he tore away from Red, he was still able to feel woozy in the Mind Meld Scape._

_Hunk started to fiddle with the edge of his shirt._

_Shiro called again. Then Pidge. Then Hunk. Keith groaned._

_Hunk edged towards the wall, peeking through a section of the wall that had come out. It only a section of three bricks that had come loose, but it was just enough that he could try to locate Lance on the other side. He could feel his friend on the other side._

_Hunk was finally able to angle himself to see a patch of dirty brown hair and a ragged t-shirt and jeans. Lance was quivering, flinching every time someone called his name, shaking his head against his tucked up knees. Fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the greasy tufts._

_The Yellow Paladin remained silent, watching his friend rock back and forth, breathing erratically and in small, squeaking exhalations. He sounded ready to cry._

_No, Lance was already crying. It was shallow sobs that affecting his breathing._

_Hunk motioned for his fellow Paladins to stop being so loud, pointing to the hole in the wall._

_Shiro came to peer over, but Keith wormed underneath him to get a look at the same time. Pidge easily just shoved the men out of her way to get a look. They all signalled to regroup farther away._

_“Kay,” Pidge opened, “That is a little worse than what I was expecting.”_

_“A little?” Keith scowled. “He can’t even function properly! He’s in the fetal position!”_

_Shiro put his hands up in front of him to silence the two. “Fighting won’t make this better. I’ll go talk to him.”_

_They all waited in silence, waiting for Shiro to work his dad-magic and get Lance back on his feet. That usually worked. Of course, the Lance that they were dealing with was nothing like_ their _Lance._

 _This one cried loudly and both simultaneously scolded and apologized to himself for it. This Lance refused to listen to anything Shiro tried to say to him, yelling loudly over the Black Paladin every time he tried to speak to him. He shouted about not letting ‘_ her’ _into his mind. The ‘Witch Bitch’, as he called her._

_The wall would shake, as it was constantly shifting in its state, fluctuating wildly. It was expanding in some spaces and thinning in others. Mortor crumbled in most spots, not keeping up with the filling that reappeared in others._

_“You’re not real!” Lance yelled hoarsely. “It’s just_ her _, it’s not them. Not them. Not them.”_

_“Lance, it is us.” Shiro pressed his human hand against the wall, but suddenly recoiled with a gasp. His palm was an angry red, and the space on the wall where he had touched it was glowing cherry red with heat._

_“Shiro!” Pidge grabbed him by the wrist and tugging him away from the wall. She worried over his injured hand, but Shiro calmed her down. Just as easily and inexplicable as him being burned, Shiro was able to make the burns disappear. They were in a place controlled by their minds._

_Lance’s breathing hitched hard as he choked out a sob. “Just go away!”_

_His voice changed again. “Shut up. She’ll think you’re begging. You_ don’t _beg!”_

_Lance replied to himself. “I haven’t!”_

_“Begging makes you weak!”_

_“I’m sorry!”_

_Keith had hung back until now, but he looked like he had had enough. He brushed past Hunk and looked directly through the hole at Lance, keeping his distance from the burning bricks, but furiously growling through it._

_“Lance, snap out of it, for fuck’s sake!” He growled through the gap._

_The Blue Paladin curled up more, his arms switching from gripping around his shins to crossing in front of his face and gripping the back of his neck, leaving angry red finger marks on his skin. He buried his face in his elbows._

_“Are you going to just fuck off and leave us? Leave Blue?”_

_“Stop.”_

_Hunk reached out and grabbed Keith by the shoulder, spinning him away from the wall. “Holy crow, man! We’re trying to help him, not freak him out!”_

_“Not real. Not real. Not real.”_

_“No!” Keith growled. His eyes smouldered. He tilted his head back, yelling back at the wall so Lance could hear him. “Listen here, asshole! You can’t just stay here forever and leave us to find another idiot to pilot Blue!”_

_“_ Stop _!” The word came out as a shriek that made Hunk feel like he was being ripped from top to bottom._

_Not three feet from where Pidge and Shiro were standing, a section of the wall blew out like a cannon ball had burst through. The bricks flew, and the section above caved downwards. Seeing that the wall was infinitely tall, Hunk could only imagine how many bricks would fall – how many it would take to bury them all._

_The pastel colours of the atmosphere suddenly soured and muddied into greys and blacks. “_ Go away!” _Lance screamed. His voice broke. “St-Stay away from me!” The air began to feel thunderous, and it rumbled and thrummed with electricity._

_A sheet of steel attempted to stretch up to protect and reinforce the crumbling wall, but the corrugated metal rusted though within the span of a few seconds, and creaked under the stress. Some poles jutted out of the ground at odd angles and had different levels of spikiness._

_Hunk gripped Keith’s shoulder hard enough to make the Red Paladin squirm and hiss in discomfort, but his attention was directed to Shiro. Even with the falling wall and erupting bricks and additions to the shoddy defense, everyone still looked to him for orders._

_Their leader looked distraught and unsure of himself. Shiro shared a look with Pidge, then looked balefully to the wall, and the damaged mind beyond. “Let’s go.”_

_Hunk was startled, as was Keith. Hunk began to protest. “But Shiro, what about ge-”_

_Shiro raised a hand to stop him. He looked deathly pale. “We’ll regroup in a safer place… Pidge?”_

_“Yah.” She gripped his human arm, then disappeared with him with a pop that could hardly be heard over the crashing wall and the increasingly loud refrain of yelling and screams._

_Hunk took one last look at the carnage before taking Keith by the arms rather than his shoulders._

_The wall had crumbled like it had been torn down like a tornado. Behind it was the poorest excuse for a shanty that Hunk had ever seen. One corner and one and one half adjacent walls that met there, and the remains of the rest of the construct. The white wall around it was completely blown out, exposing the sight of Lance curled up in his fetal position in that corner._

_Hunk looked sidelong at Keith. He was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched angrily. Hunk sighed. “I’m sorry.”_

Hunk landed back in his own body, sitting on the floor of the medical bay. He was breathing harder than he had in the mind meld.

Keith was already up, stumbling to the supply drawers and pulling out a bag. Hunk looked away, but he could hear him retching. Ti Reen rushed to him, taking the bag from him when he was done and leading the Red Paladin to sit while they retrieved some medication to help with his nausea and turbulent stomach. In the mind meld he was unaffected by the physical effects of forcibly ripping himself from Red’s conscience, but being confronted with the illnesses quite suddenly after his break, his body must’ve had quite a shock once he got back.

Shiro and Pidge were leaning against each other. Shiro was shivering, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Pidge was talking him through a breathing exercise, her hand rubbing circles onto his back.

Allura stood straight as a pole, her shoulders drawn up nervously. That was a tic of hers. “What happened? Paladins?”

Hunk rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. “It’s worse than we thought… A lot worse. He, ah… he thought we were druids. He wouldn’t listen. He just freaked out started babbling.”

Allura furrowed her brow angrily, posture stiff as a board. Whatever those druids did to her Paladin, she would make them pay with life and limb. Hunk was happy that he was on her side.

“Eurelle,” Allura gritted out. The Chief of Medicine snapped to attention. She had taken station by Lance’s pod during the procedure. “Eurelle, I want to you keep _very_ close tabs on Paladin Lance. If he so much as breathes funny, or even twitches, I want to be the first to know.”

“Yes, my Lady. He is in perfect physical condition, so it shouldn’t be an issue. But we will do regular checks on all statistics to make sure he stays healthy.” Eurelle looked like she had gotten over her annoyed air from before.

Pidge assisted Shiro into a shaky stand. “I’ll be going back to my room, then.” He said, grunted as he took a step down the stairs.

Keith jolted from his seat. “No! Hey!” He cringed at the volume of his own voice, but continued. “You said we’d regroup here and talk about what we were going to do.”

Pidge and Shiro exchanged a glance, and Pidge sighed. “Come on, Keith. Right now, the best we can do for Lance is give him some space. He almost killed mind-us with a fucking wall.”

Hunk agreed. “Keith, we should just get some sleep. We all really could use it. Even you. worrying isn’t going to get him back to normal at this point.”

“I know that!” Keith spat. “I just think that –”

Pidge cut him off. “I just think that you should remember who set him off. Who was that? Oh yah, Keith, it was _you_.”

“He burned Shiro!”

“This isn’t about us!” Pidge bit back, “That whole mind meld wasn’t about us! It was about Lance! And it was about getting Lance back! And. You. Fucked. It. Up!”

“Paladins, that is enough!” Allura snapped. Her words silenced everyone. “It was no one’s fault. But this ridiculous shouting match was both of your faults. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but you are all going to be in your rooms for the night to cool off and stay off each other’s tails.”

Pidge shouldered Shiro’s arm again, glaring at Keith. “We were already on our way.”

* * *

 

Hunk lay awake that night-cycle. Not matter how he tossed and turned, he couldn’t get rid of the niggling memory in his head of the way that Lance was acting in the mind meld.

He was completely out of character – but being at the mercy of the Galra and their druids for three months would probably do that to a person. It changed Shiro (or at least Pidge said so, based on her small amount of personal knowledge of pre-Kerberos Shiro), but Hunk had never known Shiro before that. He and Lance had been friends ever since they sat next to each other in Miss Greydon’s second grade class back home in Arizona.

Hunk turned on his side, facing the wall.

They had figured one thing out, for sure: the reason for Blue’s behaviour was evident and frightening. Lance really had gone off the deep end, and from Keith’s description of what he saw when he was with Red, he had shut out Blue and freaked her out by being unresponsive to her mental touch.

When she had been mentally rejected, Blue’s programming must have tried to compel her to find her Paladin and rescue him from whatever was causing him to be in such anguish. She was programmed to diagnose and resolve the error in their communication. But she was unable to do much, considering she was unable to move out of the hangar and Lance was in the inner section of the Castle of Lions.

But for her to act that way in the first place – Lance would have had to completely shove her away, so hard that her systems would go to defend like that.

Something was deeply wrong.

His side wasn’t working. Hunk rolled back onto his back, forearm thrown over his forehead as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

Three months, by the day/night cycle the Castle of Lions maintained, was approximately how long it had been since Lance had been swallowed and carried away by that robeast. Or at least. Everyone lost track of days unless it was really, really, really boring. And to be honest, that had only happened a few times during their time as Paladins – and those times had been rudely interrupted by some catastrophic happening that would make them forget their boredom completely.

The team had fallen apart when they thought Lance was dead.

Shiro had withdrawn back to his quiet demeanour. He would hide away and bury himself in trying to learn Altean. Some days he wouldn’t show up for any meals or training exercises. Pidge would stay awake for cycles on end, blacking out at the most inopportune times and the worst places. In the air vents. Halfway up the stairs. In Green. Hunk had caught her some times and stopped disaster, but it made him think of all the times he wouldn’t be able to find her.

He constantly worried over her and had given some cleaning bots some program modifications to follow her around the Castle and report to him if she hurt herself.

Completely opposite to Shiro and Pidge was Keith. That man trained harder than ever before. He threw himself into his regimen so vigorously that Coran had placed passcode locks on the training rooms during certain hours so Keith wouldn’t overexert himself.

Allura seemed gaunt and tired. More so than usual. She didn’t dare bring the Castle anywhere near the front. She jumped the Castle twice a day to obscure systems that were out of the immediate reach of competent Galra forces.

But Hunk – he had tried so hard not to show change. He was the constant for the others. The one that Shiro would grip when he could feel his panic set in. The one that would carry Pidge to her room when she fell asleep sitting up. The one that would leave food and water in the training room while Keith beat the circuits out of the training bots. The one that would sit cross legged on the bridge while Allura ranted, and would swap stories with Coran while they tried to compromise on cooking methods.

But he hadn’t shown the others his own problems. He hadn’t told them that he could hear Lance’s laugh down the halls. He hadn’t told them how training felt empty and useless without the Blue Paladin. He hadn’t told them that he missed knocking shitty jokes in Morse code through the bedroom wall that they shared. He didn’t want to let them know that the Left leg of Voltron that was meant to support them all was silently about to buckle without the Right.

He had kept telling himself that Lance was going to be alright. He wanted to believe that. She still did.

Hunk had imagined and dreamed of how they would reunite with Lance. He had always imagined it to be full of laughs and hugs. He thought Lance would jump right back into the fray and pull the team back together.

But it had not been even remotely close to that. The team was suffering. Keith had stepped out of line, sure, but the way Pidge had reacted was also unneeded. Shiro was unable to defend anyone in his state, and Allura had just separated everyone before they could resolve anything.

Hunk’s moms had told him to ‘ _never go to bed angry_ ’. Goodness knew how many members of their crew would be sleeping angry tonight.

Hunk groaned.

He wouldn’t be able to sleep at this rate. After another half hour of tossing and turning, sticking his leg off his bed until it got cold, and taking his sheets off and pulling them back on him. Nothing worked.

The Yellow Paladin rolled out of bed, pulling on pants and a shirt, and leaving his room behind. When all else failed, a long walk through the Castle of Lions definitely tuckered him out and made his body weep for joy at the sight of a bed or couch.

He wandered about the Castle-Ship, aimlessly moving for about an hour before his feet led him to the medical bay.

It was dark inside, save for the dim glow of the medical pods and their information displays, and the single lamp that lit the alcove for the attending physician. It was Ti Reen. Of course Eurelle had put her most trusted assistant in charge. Ti Reen was resting on the cot, one set of arms tucked behind their head and the others holding up a small handheld display with dense writing on it. It glowed pale blue on their bone white fur.

They titled their head when they heard Hunk enter the room, but quietly went back to reading from the handheld. Hunk would visit lots, usually for doing checkups on the healing pods, so Ti Reen didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Hunk made a beeline towards Lance’s pod, quietly tiptoeing up the stairs and coming beside the pod.

Lance’s face was under-lit by the blue illumination of the pod, making the sharp lines of his face look so much more drastic. Hunk was still slowly learning Altean, but from what he understood of the readings, Lance’s status was completely normal, fixed by the wondrous machine that was the medical pod.

Lance still wore the Mind Meld headset, and the sets that the other Paladins had worn during their first attempt at helping Lance still strewn on the floor where they had been thrown down.

There was no one around, and Ti Reen wasn’t paying attention.

Hunk looked heavily at his best friend, and then scooped up his headset from the floor and placed it on over his hair.

“I’m coming, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look it's[my tumblr](http://pidge-the-pigeon.tumblr.com/)


	4. Hunk's Secret Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hunk tries to help, Pidge takes no man's shit, and hope forms on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not that I'm dying. I'm just dying.  
> Kinda a filler chapter but things got slow. Important shit in here though.

_Hunk found himself amongst what looked like a battle zone. Rubble lay in tall piles, dozed upwards into hills or scattered like children’s blocks. Dust covered everything in a fine layer. White bricks were everywhere, some sections of the wall that once extended to the heavens miraculously still held together on the ground._

_How long he was left wandering about the huge piles of stones and bricks, Hunk had no idea, but he knew for a fact that there was no way that there had been this much material involved for the wall._

_Did that mean that Lance had just procured these debris piles?_

_Hunk climbed over a particular rise, and that was when he saw a familiar patch of brown hair. No matter how greasy or bloody it was, Hunk could recognise Lance in a barren mindscape like Lance was his own firstborn child._

_He was careful, climbing over the rubble and settling down to sit on a shelf of intact bricks that jutted out from the pile. Lance instantly knew he was there. Hunk knew because the Blue Paladin’s head snapped to attention, though his eyes had turned a worse shade of red and had gained a bleary quality. There were streaks carved from the dust on his cheeks by tears. It cut the white dust with trails of dusky brown._

_It took him a moment, but suddenly Lance jolted, and a ramshackle pillar of bricks erupted from the pile, nearly hitting Hunk._

_Hunk rolled out of the way, gritting his teeth and yelping when he hit the side of the mound and then the ground. He groaned, brining himself to balance on his hands and knees._

_He looked sidelong at Lance, who had huddled against the brick pile as far from Hunk as possible._

_Lance had plastered himself to the side of the stone heap, reddened eyes widening in fear as he scrabbled backwards. He dislodged some bricks along the way, but each one somehow managed to have a trajectory going straight for Hunk._

_The Yellow Paladin rolled out of the way, desperately trying to find his footing to run away. “_ Wait _! Stop!” He cried._

_Lance paused. His eyes focused for a moment. “Hunk?”_

_“Yah!” Hunk said, nodding vigorously. “It’s me! Your buddy, Hunk!” He took a step forward, but Lance raised his hand and the ground started to shift beneath Hunk. “Whoa, whoa, no no nonono, no! Wait!” The shaking ceased, and Lance eyed him dangerously. Hunk raised his hands in a truce, slowly sitting down on the dusty bricks. “I’m not going to hurt you.”_

_Lance’s brows furrowed deeply. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? Are you really Hunk?” He suddenly tensed. “Or Haggar?”_

_Hunk was caught off guard by the question, and when he hesitated, Lance’s face abruptly changed, drawing wide in fear. “_ He is _.”_

 _It suddenly changed again, back to the furrowed brow. “We should_ kill _her.”_

_Hunk swallowed. “No, no no! I promise, I’m not Haggar!”_

_So Haggar had been involved. She probably had been waiting to get her sticky mitts on the Paladins ever since they emerged, and when Lance was captured by one of her robeasts, she must have done everything she could to him._

_Shiro hardly divulged much on his memories of the druid, but none of it was pleasant, of what he did tell._

_Lance must have encountered her and not have been able to find the divide between real and imagined – or tell friend from foe._

_Lance didn’t let his guard down. He tilted his head, “How do I believe you’re Hunk?”_

_“Well, come on, Haggar’s never seen my actual face!” Hunk scoffed. “I’ve got to be me!”_

_The Blue Paladin stiffened. His jaw clenched up and he looked ready to cry again. And the tracks down his dust covered cheeks had just started to dry._

_“I don’t know that,” Lance quivered. “I can’t remember – I can’t remember anyone’s faces.” Hunk’s blood ran cold when Lance laughed, high and piercing, like a hyena. “I – ha – can’t steal what I don’t remember! Take that you stupid bitch! Ha!”_

_“Lance, please!” Hunk pleaded. His chest tightened at the sight of his friend like this. This wasn’t right._

_Lance wrapped his arms around his middle to brace himself as he giggled. “Bet’cha weren’t planning on that! Nope. Nope nope no. No she didn’t! Can’t get the most important bit! The most important thing about Lance Diaz! I’m useless otherwise!” He suddenly paused, his grin fading, and his hyena laughter dying. “Useless. No faces… I’m useless.”_

_Hunk winced. The sudden change in dynamic was chilling._

_“S-sorry. I tried. I worked so hard. I’ll do better. I promise. I promise.” The arms wrapped around his middle tightened in a self-conscious gesture now. It looked like he had completely forgotten Hunk was there. Hunk had overheard those lines enough times during phone days back at the Garrison to know who Lance was thinking of. “Someday I’ll be top of my class – just you wait, Mama. Just you wait.”_

_The Blue Paladin looked absolutely distraught as he shifted up the pile of rubble using only his legs. He did eventually unfurl when he reached near the top, far away from Hunk. He cleared himself a pocket from the bricks to settle in. He climbed into the cave-like opening, arms and legs folding tight to his torso. He sniffed, rubbing his arm to wipe his nose, then lay his head down._

_Hunk was completely lost for words until he heard Lance whisper. Hunk had no idea how he heard him, but he did, and it hurt._

_“Get out.”_

_“What?”_

_“Get out. Leave me alone! Scat!”_

_“Buddy, I’m here to help you!” Hunk said, “I can’t leave you alone!”_

_“I’ve been alone for a long, long time!”_

_“Lance-”_

_“_ Go away _!”_

* * *

 

Shiro found himself in his bed when he woke up. He didn’t remember getting there. He didn’t remember finding new blankets for the bed, or the extra pillows that accumulated around him like a nest.

He propped himself up on his elbow, blearily looking around the room. He rubbed his eyes, squinting into the dim.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty.”

Shiro jumped a little, heart beating wildly at the sudden voice.

Pidge was at the end of his bed, almost completely swallowed up by a pile of pillows. She was incredibly easy to miss, except for the flash of reflection in her glasses.

“Pidge?”

“Unfortunately.”

Shiro sighed, thumping back down into the nest of blankets and pillows. “You brought me?”

“You were totally out of it,” She replied. “You got really worked up and kinda zoned out after the mind meld.”

It all started coming back to him. Finding Lance, then almost getting killed in the mindscape, and then Pidge helping him stumble back to his room. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize.” Pidge interrupted. “Just don’t. It was my fault for suggesting the meld. I was dumb. Should’a listened to Eurelle.”

“Pidge.”

“Just… don’t try to make me feel better. We made Lance worse. Fucking Keith–”

“Language.”

“ _Fucking Keith_ had to go and mess up everything you were trying to do.”

“Pidge.” Shiro sat up, putting his hand on her shoulder. “We can’t change it now. But now we know where Lance is at, so we can plan on how we’re going to help him when we are all ready.”

“I guess.” Pidge shifted her eyes, avoiding Shiro’s gaze. She picked at the pillows around her. _Sure, help him when we are all ready – but when will that be? We’re a group of damaged people, never all simultaneously alright._ The longer they left Lance the way he was, the harder it would be to pull him out.

“Hey, how you go get some food for yourself?” Shiro curled his hand loosely, pulling it from her shoulder to nudge her bicep. “You must be starving.”

Pidge smiled at him, but it was bittersweet and pained. “Yah. Sure.”

* * *

 

_Lance was tired._

_Mama hadn’t answered him. She always answered his calls on Sundays. Always. Ask him how classes were._ What did you get on that test? I knew you could do it. _She always answered his calls on the first ring. It made him think she sat by the kitchen receiver and have her hand hovering over the phone._

_The man that visited him had scared him. At first he humored it – he later concluded that it was definitely a spawn of Haggar within his mind… Probably. He had wanted to see what it could do._

_It made him cry._

_He didn’t know how to feel about the man, but there was something about him that felt so damn_ familiar _that he didn’t want him to disappear forever. He only wanted the one who said he was Hunk to stay away for a little while._

_Just until Lance was done on the phone with his Mama._

* * *

 

Keith was mucking around with a plate of food in the kitchen when Hunk stumbled into the kitchen, still reeling from his secret one on one mind meld with Lance.

Hunk had to quickly compose himself when Keith looked up, wiggling Spork held between two fingers. A small speck of green slopped off of it back into the bowl.

“Hey, man.” Hunk said, sliding into the room. He crossed behind the counter, trying to blindly find the dish rack. Usually it worked. And… there it was. The drawer popped open and Hunk snatched up a bowl.

Keith glanced at him again, then returned his full attention to the food, taking a bite of the gelatinous goo.

“You feeling better?”

Keith swallowed. “No. Feel like shit.”

“Oh.”

“Look, I don’t blame-”

“Don’t lie to me, Hunk,” Keith snapped, dropping his utensil in anger. “You blame me. You think it’s my fault. Everyone here thinks it.” Hunk gripped his bowl. “I pushed him too far. I thought I could get him to come out by riling him up.”

“I figured.” Hunk filled up his bowl and came around the counter to sit next to Keith on the barstools. “That is who you guys are. You feed off of each other’s energy. I don’t think he’ll hold it against you later, but he lookssss- looked! Pretty hurt.”

Keith flashed him a look, violet eyes suspicious. “‘Looks’? Hunk, what were you doing?”

Hunk suddenly straightened up, hands diving under the seat of his pants in nervousness. His voice was raised an octave. “Nothing! Just a grammatical error! Yeesh, Keith.”

The Red Paladin opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Pidge appeared in the doorway. She looked absolutely wiped out. She was leaning on the door frame, eyes heavily lidded and her clothes hanging unevenly on her shoulders.

Since she had grown a solid foot and a half since they had been shot into space, Pidge had to do some minor adjustments when it came to clothing. It mainly consisted of Coran and Allura digging through the castle stores to see if they had any clothing Pidge’s size, or buying custom from alien markets.

“Looks like everyone’s hungry tonight, hey?” Pidge said, tone flatter than a table.

Hunk smiled weakly. “The more the merrier! When was the last time we all ate together?”

They all knew the answer to that. It had been when Lance was still with them, smiling and making shitty jokes and just being _Lance_.

It was quiet as Pidge got herself food, then sat down on the opposite side of the island from Hunk and Keith. Pidge didn’t really touch her bowl of food goo. She just keeled over the tabletop, groaning, arm stretched out for a cushion.

They were all too close to be overly bothered by the silence as they ate, but it was such a harsh contrast of their usually boisterous meals. Keith gave up soon after Pidge, pushing his half empty bowl away with a sour expression.

Hunk had come here to be alone and mull over what to do with his precarious position with Lance. To have Lance’s tolerance enough to speak without getting killed in the mindscape, but not enough that Lance would listen to a thing he said, then breaking down like before.

It was frustrating, and he had no idea what to do.

“Whoa, Hunk, friend, wanna stop giving the back wall the death glare?” Pidge waved her free hand upwards to grab his attention.

Hunk snapped out of it, blinking. “Oh, sorry, Pidge.”

Pidge snorted loudly, but ultimately said nothing.

Keith eyed him. “Hunk.”

“Dude! I stopped looking at the wall!”

The Red Paladin huffed in exasperation. He clasped his hands together on top of the table in front of him. “You’re up to something.”

“Of course he is.” Pidge said.

“Oh, come on!” Hunk adjusted himself on his seat to angle towards Keith and Pidge. “That’s completely unfair!”

Pidge shrugged. “It would be nice if you were, though.” Keith agreed with a grunt. Hunk eyed them warily.

“What are you guys talking abou-”

Pidge slapped her hand back down on the table, righting herself. “You were talking to Lance. I was snooping on the surveillance while waiting for Shiro to wake up.”

He flashed Keith a look, and the Red Paladin just shrugged. “You said it was a grammatical error, right?”

Hunk groaned. “Is nothing sacredly private in this Castle?”

“Nothing is safe from me.” Pidge smirked. “Though I am surprised that Ti Reen just let you do whatever. They must really like you.”

Hunk sunk lower over the island counter, melting a little.

“But just so you know, I’m with you. We have to get Lance back. We can’t just let him slip away when we’re so close. Shiro said that we should wait until we’re all emotionally ready, but there’s no way in hell that’s ever going to happen.”

Keith slipped in, “We need him back now. We can’t wait for that self-depreciating idiot to sort himself out in the mindscape.”

“So you’re not gonna tell Shiro?” Hunk asked skeptically.

“Well, I mean, we will tell him eventually, but we should just back Lance up and get him out sooner than later. We can’t just stand around outside of the mindscape just _waiting_ for the poor schmuck to pull himself together.” Pidge wiggled back down into her position on the counter. “We can’t do it right away, we just need to figure it out so he will be back in commission as soon as Blue is too.”

“Ya,” Hunk said. “Lance… he can’t be left alone in his head once he’s up. It won’t be safe for him.” Pidge and Keith agreed.

Keith scooted forward on his stool to get closer to Hunk, even though there was zero secrecy within the Castle Ship (to some extent, because while Pidge’s presence wasn’t on their ‘most-important-person-to-be-alive’ at the moment on their surveillance cameras), Allura and Coran probably wouldn’t be able to see this conspiring scene. “But you’ll have to go first.”

Pidge nodded. “Ya. Soften him up. You’re his best friend.”

Hunk hesitated for a moment, then gave in to the two sets of pouting faces he had ever seen in his life.

“Fine!” He dropped his Spork into his food goo. “But you guys need to play backup.”

Pidge gifted him with her signature cat-like shit eating grin. “No problemo big guy.”

* * *

 

Hunk didn’t feel right, sneaking around and avoiding Shiro and the Alteans. It made him feel dirty, but not as bad as the feeling of not helping his friend.

It had been a full day of dodging. During sparring practice that morning the only one that could actually focus out of the three of them was Keith, but that was probably due to him being a crazy fighter. Hunk and Pidge had thrown themselves into their work on Blue, but contact with Coran was impossible to avoid. They made decent headway in the repairs, but the heavy damage made it feel like they hardly made a dint in the work ahead.

But they needed to get it done before they brought Lance back.

During dinner Allura, Coran, Shiro, and one of the engine masters made conversation at the head of the table. The rest of the Paladins were glad for the swell of occupants that the years had provided at the rest of the table. Nearly twenty other aliens crowded the table with them – only about half of those that worked on the castle ship – and they were loud as always. They slipped away from Shiro and mingled in with them, avoiding questions and conversation.

They were all sweating bullets the whole time, nervous that they would slip up on their plans.

That night, Hunk and Keith had joined Pidge in her room that night to do some planning in private. The kitchen was far too public to actually make these sensitive plans in. Their cooking staff usually started four hours before the day cycle lights lit up the Castle of Lions, and with that early hour nearing, they had no choice but to retreat.

Pidge had her laptop on her thighs, and her legs spread over the bed, taking up more space than what was proportionate to her size. She was tapping away on it, drawing up a new code that she was planning on integrating into the Mind Meld headsets.

Keith was perched on the desk chair, refusing to sit on his butt like a normal human being. Pidge kept calling him a ‘fucking cat’ and telling him to ‘get down you bastard, you’re making me nervous’, but he didn’t move, only bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep them from falling asleep.

He was supposed to be watching the security monitors that were piled up high on Pidge’s desk and wall. He originally was told to watch the medical bay for an opening to open for Hunk to go in again and snag some headsets without Eurelle stopping him, but he somehow came to the conclusion that he didn’t have to do that very dutifully. Pidge occasionally would remind him of the fact, but he just continued pushing the swivel chair into lazy rotations.

So far all they had was the plan that Hunk would go in first, warming Lance up to the idea of interacting with his own kind and returning to sanity. How he was going to do this, well, that was still up for debate.

Pidge was working on her modification on the Mind Meld sets, but Hunk doubted how well it was going to work in pilot. He trusted her and all, but he wasn’t in the mood that day to get shocked. He would never be in that mood, either, for the record.

She had explained that instead of Hunk being directly projected into the mindscape, his quintessence in the vague physical resemblance would appear. From what he gathered, she wasn’t entirely what it entailed, but she said that once she was done, it might just be the key to getting Lance to come back.

Apparently only showing Lance an impression of himself was going to help.

Keith pushed off of the desk, making the chair swivel slowly in lazy rotations.  “So, you’re saying that we’ll just be a whole bunch of abstract shit floating around him?”

“That’s the main idea, yes. Maybe some sounds and smell? It really depends on your quintessence, Keith.”

“So if you went in, you’d just be a pile of salt?”

Pidge drew herself up, eyes alight with pent up fury. But something switched inside her and she withdrew her anger, storing it away somewhere else. Hunk was scared to think about where it could have gone… upon further contemplation, Hunk came to the conclusion that it probably retreated back to the depths of Pidge’s dark, shriveled soul, waiting to be called upon by the girl’s dormant angel of death.

“Better than that. You doubt my abilities?”

“To make a pile of salt look friendly is going to a hard task, just putting that out there.” Keith shrugged.

“First of all, I think that one hundred percent of your statement was rude as fuck. Secondly, I’m a communications expert; you should have more faith in my ability to, I don’t know, mcfreaking _communicate_.”

“Electronic Communications , Pidge! That is completely different than mind-to-mind communication!”

“Keith, I didn’t ask for your distrustful sass.” Her eyes flicked up. “Watch the fucking monitors, catman.”

Keith grumbled, spinning the chair back so that he faced the monitors. This time he didn’t swivel the chair, only settling for tapping his fingers on the metal surface of the desk.

Hunk sighed, leaning up against the wall from where he sat on the floor. It was taking so long. He tilted his head at Pidge, trying to snag a better look at the coding.

“How much longer, do you think?”

Pidge scrunched up her nose, squinting at her screen. “Maybe the better part of the hour – there’s one bit that’s being a bitch to patch together with the Altean program.”

Hunk puffed in exasperation.

Pidge jabbed in a new line of code.

Keith took a rebellious spin in his chair.

That was when Hunk almost broke. He needed to get something done! His best friend was insane, and was desperate need of being saved.

But just before he could explode, Keith twirled his chair around again, his face casually flat. “Eurelle’s out.”

Hunk bolted up, staggering towards the door. It was now or never – grab three headsets and get out. Eurelle wouldn’t care and Ti Reen wasn’t really one to pry. It had to be done _now_.

“Good luck!” Pidge yelled after him as he scrambled out the door. He sprinted down the hallway in his own fashion, but once he reached the main corridor, he slowed to a walk. Mainly to keep down suspicion, but also because running was _not_ fun at all.

There were two girls that were going down the hall together, heads together and arms linked, speaking in quiet whispers. Hunk recognised them instantly – Skemarit and Piya, rescued from a sex slave transfer three months prior. Their bruises had faded, and they covered themselves head to toe with multiple layers of clothing, but they still flinched whenever someone spoke to them too loudly or made sudden movements.

Hunk passed them on the far side of the corridor, waving gently to them. The girls offered him a smile each and kept moving, as did he.

It was a fifteen minute walk, and every so often he checked his handheld to keep up with the updates from Pidge or Keith. Keith would only send him something if it was serious, but Pidge constantly kept the updates coming so obnoxiously he had to turn off the ringer.

 **5:22** _Eurelle is walking_

 **5:22** _Still walking_

 **5:23** _Walking_

 **5:28** _Talking to Yelk from the kitchen_

 **5:29** _*Flirting with Yelk from the kitchen_

 **5:34**   _awww he took her to dinner first. Well he gave her food and they’re talking. When’s the wedding???_

 **5:36** _you actually going or what? Hurry up and get the shit and come back u absolute walnut_

Hunk shoved the handheld deep into his pocket. That was enough of that.

He made it to the medical bay in the usual time, checking his device one last time before slowly poking his head in.

Sure enough, Ti Reen was the only one in. Hunk had to wonder if they were Eurelle’s only helper – most likely. He never saw anyone else working in the medical bay other than Eurelle and Ti Reen. Occasionally a member of the kitchen staff would force them to eat, but that was about it.

Hunk slipped into the bay, and without fail, Ti Reen snapped to attention from the statistics they were recording. Their attention snapped up immediately. Their blue dinner plate eyes adjusted to the dim lighting away from the pods in the middle of the night.

Their hands began to move. Hunk had difficulty keeping up with the signing, but he knew enough that he got the gist of it. _Yellow always here in ungodly times of cycle._

Hunk smiled at that. “You got me there, Ti Reen. I was just… going to… ah… check up on Lance before I went to bed.”

Ti Reen stared flatly at him, unimpressed. _Talk with Blue? Upset him more you will._

“Ah, no, not tonight,” Hunk edged around the medical bay, shuffling over to Lance’s medical pod. He had the habit of forgetting that Ti Reen was only mute, not deaf. They could hear everything, and still understood. It had taken Hunk a while to get used to.

The Mind Meld headsets were stacked together on the floor, tucked against the wall and pod to be out of the way.

Lance was in the same position as before – body straight as an arrow, lying down in the padded healing pod. For a backup pod, it was actually more comfortable looking than the other ones one had to stand in.

Hunk leaned over; scanning Lance’s face for any kind of sign, but it was just in a passive neutral expression. His hands were only slightly curled against his sides. They hadn’t had time to wash him up or change his clothing before the healing process, so he was still wearing the tight charcoal bodysuit. Fortunately, while they were putting the Mind Meld set on Lance’s head before, Eurelle had fitted him with a loose tank top. It was so loose it almost fit him like a dress, but no one said anything about it.

He sprawled his hand out on the glass surface, gazing dolefully at the occupant. He sent every apology through whatever telepathic link they might possess outside of the mind meld. But ultimately, he sighed quietly and made for the corner of the pod that the Mind Meld sets were stacked.

But before he could pick them up, Ti Reen was there, looking incredibly disappointed. They had the stack of all of the headsets held in one large hand. The lower set were crossed, and the free hand was propped on their hip.

No signing was needed to convey what they were feeling.

It was too late to go back now. _Crap. Crap. Oh no_. Hunk tried to play it off. “Oh, thanks Ti Reen! I was looking for those!”

He went to take them from the medical assistant, but Ti Reen swept their hand away to keep Hunk from reaching the headsets. The lower arms unfolded. _What for?_ They asked.

Hunk allowed for a light hearted laugh, “For Allura. She wanted them back in the training room at some point. Might as well if I’m here, right?”

_Holy crap I’m probably the worst liar. I know I’m the worst liar ever! Fripping Quiznak!_

Ti Reen had no eyebrows, but if they did, Hunk was positive that they would have one cocked. The alien tilted their head, slowly signing now. _For princess?_ They thought for a moment. Then seemed to come to a conclusion in their own head with a definite nod. The stack of headsets was handed over.

Hunk took them with trepidation, but once they hung on his hand it evaporated just a bit.

“Thanks, man,” Hunk said. After a second he caught himself, slapping the back of his neck sheepishly. “I mean, Ti Reen. Sorry, not a guy. My bad.”

Ti Reen just shrugged, clapping him on the shoulder. _As I am both what you call male and female, it worries me not. Colloquialisms are part of every language. Now go, Princess does not need to be kept wait._

Hunk thanked Ti Reen again and went on his way, glancing one last time at Lance in his med pod.

His sigh of relief once he was out couldn’t be too loud, but he let one loose anyways, arms hanging limply as he speed walked down the hallway. Thank crow that he didn’t run into anyone else in the hallways. It looked like Skemarit and Piya were gone, too. Hopefully they were sleeping fine now.

When he re-entered his room, he found that both of his companions were absolutely passed out. Keith was sleeping, curled up in the swivel chair, puffing softly in his sleep. Pidge was out like a light on the one end of Hunk’s bed. Her laptop was neatly folded up and lying on the floor, since she was sleeping with her back to the wall with her arms and legs stretched out in front of her as she snuggled with the pillow.

Her hair was a crazy bird’s nest, sticking to her face and neck from sweat. When Hunk sat on the bed, Pidge shifted awake, rubbing her eyes under her glasses. She grumbled wearily. Hunk realised then that Pidge hadn’t slept the night before, and was probably exhausted.

“I got ‘em,” He whispered, careful not to wake Keith up. “But we’ll get to them tomorrow.”

Pidge nodded, probably only half-hearing him. “G’night.”

“Sleep tight.”

* * *

 

“And… done!” Pidge smacked down the last character on her keyboard. “Download’s gonna start.”

Pidge was surrounded by the circle of four headsets. It was more than they originally needed, but it would be useful if they ever got Shiro in on whatever they were doing.

“Kay, so I’m extending their range so we can run operations out of here. We can pretend we have a secret Girl Scout group or something.”

Keith scoffed, but Hunk laughed. “Keith probably was a Boy Scout.” He glanced over at the reddening Keith. “Did you fight a bear with your bare hands and win? Ya?”

Keith pushed against Hunk’s arm in embarrassment. “Hunk, stop. Please?”

Hunk’s eyes opened in wonderment. “Dear heavens, you didn’t, did you?!”

“No!”

“Alright! Download’s done!” Pidge interrupted. She unplugged the first headset and handed it to Hunk. “Just stick it on and hit the button like usual. Startup might take a little longer than usual because all of my additions, but that’ll be okay, just don’t freak out if something’s not the same as it usually is.”

“Yah, okay.” Hunk slipped in on over his head, glancing nervously at Keith. The Red Paladin shrugged, which didn’t exactly instill confidence but Hunk was going to take it. Hunk lay down on the bed, head resting on Pidge’s pillow mountain. He pressed the button on the side of the headset, then closed his eyes, and waited for the mindscape to appear.

 _The mindscape finally came, dissolving the corporeal world around him and giving way to the white field that was inhabited by Lance._ And so it begins again. _Hunk took a deep breath._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the audience is underwhelmed. Anyways, if you have questions or comments just throw me a biscuit and talk to me on [tumblr](http://pidge-the-pigeon.tumblr.com/).


	5. Fall Leaves and Wood Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which anime saves the day, Lance remembers, and Keith 'pining' Kogane DOES NOT MISS LANCE DAMMIT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait! I lost my NaNoWriMo spirit when I got too stressed to keep up with it, but I promise that updates will happen, albeit irregularly.
> 
> And since Broganes was pretty much confirmed in Season 2, guess what I couldn't refuse using.

_Lance was stacking bricks in piles of one, two, three, four, five, six when he heard the small popping noise to his left. Lance’s head shot up, alert, trying to crane and see what had appeared without having to stand up._

_He did finally see a figure appear, but he didn’t really recognise it. It was sort of yellow? Orange? Amber (probably amber) coloured. Yes. It was sort of aura hanging around a figure, composed entirely of the colour amber. It looked like a powdery mist that swirled and drifted about the stranger._

_It smelled wondrous too. Like that one time Lance had gone up north to visit his cousins in Michigan. It was the smell of autumn, yes – the smell of leaves on the ground and wood smoke in the cooling air._

_It made him think of back home in Arizona. The blazing colours of fall and the clear skies above._

_Lance examined the newcomer closer once he came into better view._

_The stranger raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, Lance. It’s me again.”_

_The Blue Paladin immediately tensed. No – wait… again? He had visited before? When? He tilted his head, but his hands never left the precious piles of bricks. So methodical. So imperative. For what, he didn’t know, but build them he must, and protect them with solemnity unmatched and unparalleled in the entire universe._

_Lance tested the waters. “Again.”_

_“Yes. Me, Hunk, again.” The figure explained. “I look a little different now – Pidge fiddled with the programming, but it’s still the same old me.”_

_“Hunk, Hunk,” Lance tested the name on his mouth. Sounded familiar, tasted like it had been said many times. But… he didn’t know. “And we are… friends? Hunk?”_

_This Hunk broke out in a relieved smile, hinting at a bittersweet expression. He stumbled over his words, shuffling closer to Lance. “Y-Yes! We are best friends!”_

_Lance shrunk back a little, but still kept his hands protectively shelled over his miniature brick towers. It took a bit for Hunk to understand the whole ‘back off’ body language, but once he did, he immediately ceased his advance and planted himself between two piles of bricks. He was in Lance’s direct sightline, which was alright with him._

_“Can you prove that?”_

_“What? What do you mean?”_

_“Prove we were friends,” Lance said, “I have to be able to trust that, and you.”_

_He froze for a second, his face giving away his desperate scramble to try to think of something. “Ahh… Haggar wouldn’t know that your middle name is Tobias. That’s a best friend thing. You told me in third grade, remember, Lance?”_

_“Haggar took_ everything _. She would know that.”_

_The man looked at him in shock, obviously not expecting that answer. “I…”_

_Lance grimaced. Come on. Come on. So close to knowing who this really is. He’s important! Important! Shit! “Can’t you prove that you’re…?” He trailed off, his voice thinning into nothing as he started to physically crumple._

_“That I’m me?” Hunk hesitated. He shifted his gaze from pile to pile. Suddenly his face lit up, and his amber aura brightened and swirled like the rustle of a thousand leaves. “Okay, at your house you had to have a Scooby Doo nightlight! Your brother used to never be able to sleep without it and it rubbed off on you too. Now you always need a light.”_

_Lance continued to curl in on himself. It wasn’t enough. No, he needed more to just nudge the memory into place. “You don’t understand, do you?”_

_Hunk exhaled, face pinching in frustration. “What do you need, Lance?”_

_“Just… please prove you aren’t her. Please not be her.”_

_Lance wasn’t so much as looking for proof that he was Hunk (the memory associated with that name was so close to coming back into place)– he just wanted someone in his head that wasn’t going to hurt him. Not like Haggar._

_“Remember when we were little and you would come to my house on Saturday mornings?”_

_Lance stared at him, brows furrowing in concentration. Saturday… day seven… yes! Not something he could ever bring to the surface, and completely unmarred by Haggar’s touch. “Saturday morning… cartoons?”_

_“We would always watch the same show,” Hunk visibly was getting more and more excited. His grin split his face ear to ear, and he laughed. He took a step closer, crouching down to get on the same level as his friend. “You remember the words to the theme? We’d sing them at the top of our lungs.”_

_It was only a vague memory – with sudden patches flying into his mind to enrich it. The big screen TV, the suede couches, and the big bay window in the living room that would reflect off the screen so curtains had to be closed for optimal TV viewing. It could be entirely made up – a fantasy of his head._

_Lance shifted forwards, leaning against the brick stacks he had set up around him, brows furrowed at Hunk. He was unsure. But the quintessence of this man was so open and welcoming. It spread open, baring its most vulnerable soft spots to Lance like a sprawling cat._

_“Fighting evil by moonlight,” Hunk prompted._

_Lance tilted his head. He had heard that somewhere. But_ where _?_

_The smell of wood smoke on the cool air filled Lance’s senses._

_Hunk continued, opening up his quintessence even further once he saw that Lance was reacting to it. “Winning love by daylight. Never running from a real fight…”_

_Wait, wait, holy shit! It all came rushing back to Lance at once._

_It hit him like a wall of warmth and happiness – all smelling of a fall day, and feeling like a mug of something hot in his hands. Suddenly he could remember entirely what they did those mornings – jumping around on the couches with the remotes, Lance pretending to be Tuxedo Mask in his batman cape and oversized sunglasses._

_Water was gathering in Lance’s eyes. His voice was tight, and even he could barely hear it, but Lance got it out in a hoarse breath. “She is the one named… Sailor Moon.”_

_Hunk sucked in a breath. “Lance?”_

_Lance’s head snapped up, heart pounding and his breath catching. “I – Hunk. Hunk is it really you? You’re real?”_

_Hunk nodded, and Lance lurched up into a stand. His feet caught on the rubble around him, but Lance stumbled to a stop a foot away from Hunk._

_“Ya, ya I am.” Hunk whispered. He was tearing up too._

_“I – I could really use a hug.”_

_“Mhm, me too.” Hunk laughed, brushing tears away from his face with his sleeve._

_Lance leaned forward, falling into Hunk’s chest. He got swept up by his best friend’s arms, being held (not crushingly, which was an improvement) close against that warm, amber chest that smelled like autumn._

_He sniffed into Hunk’s chest. “I’m happy I found you again.”_

_Lance gripped the back of Hunk’s shirt._ Real _. This is real. All real. Well, in his mind, but it was Hunk and he was there and he wasn’t one of Haggar’s tricks. He was warm and it was a hug that Lance_ knew _._

_“I’m so, so, so sorry.” Lance whispered, his face still buried in his’s friend’s embrace._

_“Don’t be.” Hunk’s hand came around the back of his head to cradle it. “Don’t be.”_

_Lance had no idea how long they stood there – how long Hunk supported him in the embrace. But it had to end at some point, with Hunk smiling at him with that bittersweet smile, hands still gripping Lance’s shoulders._

_“Do you feel comfortable seeing Pidge or Keith?”_

_Lance hesitated, swaying a bit despite Hunk’s steady grip. “I… ah… I don’t know.”_

_“It’s alright you you’re not ready,” Hunk said. He looked Lance in the eye. “You don’t need to yet. They just miss you a lot, and really want to talk.”_

_“No, it’s just…” Lance furrowed his brow, “What do they look like?”_

_It looked like it took Hunk a second to understand. But realisation dawned on his face, and he elaborated for Lance. “Well, Keith’s all dark and kinda an emo. He has a mullet you absolutely despise, and wears a stupid cropped jacket. Ring any bells?” Hunk paused, noticing that Lance had no recollection of this_  Keith _person_. _“Alright, then, Pidge is small and angry and wears those stupid glasses, just because they were her brother’s.”_

_“Wait, I know it, I know it!” Lance brightened. “I would… take them from him? Well... that was mean.”_

_“Her. Pidge is a girl,” Hunk corrected._

_“Right! Pidge is a girl and the Castle’s a ship!” Lance felt a rush in his gut, excitement building in him._

_“There you go,” Hunk smiled. “You’re remembering everyone now?”_

_He was finally remembering things, putting names to places and things. The only thing that eluded him was faces. It felt like it all remained buried deep within him. It had been safekeeping before, but now it was a frustrating hindrance. “I’m trying, really, I am.”_

_“Hey, man, it’s fine,” Hunk reassured him, “It will all come back in time.”_

_Lance thought for a moment. He wanted to remember what everyone looked like. Shiro, Pidge, Allura, Keith, and Coran. He knew their names. Heck, he had only just recognised Hunk and everything came flying back. “Can you bring all of them? Can you bring my friends?”_

_Hunk smiled, “You bet.”_

* * *

 

“Soooooo,” Pidge leaned over Hunk, “How’d it go?”

Hunk rubbed his eyes. He was still lying down, which was a good sign. If he started walking around during the Mind Meld he would probably shove himself into a medical pod to fix the issue.

“It was… um… good.” Hunk looked sidelong at his teammates. They looked like they had been arguing while he was gone, on the verge of a fight. Keith had almost crawled off of his chair to go after Pidge, who was standing bullishly on the other side of the room. It looked like she had cut short her side of the argument once she saw that Hunk was conscious again. “It was good.”

“‘Good’ like you didn’t die, or ‘good’ like he actually talked to you?” Keith leaned forward, making the chair creak. He made no sign of going after Pidge, so she took her chance to slide to slide across the room and sit on the bed with Hunk.

“I’m alive, so yes.” Hunk sat up to make room for her, also removing his headset. “And he recognised me!”

Pidge instantly perked up, and Keith nearly toppled from his chair. “Really?!”

Hunk was having a hard time believing it too, still. Everything he had experienced in the past half hour had seemed so surreal. It wasn’t a matter of just confronting Lance like he usually did, it was a roundabout affair of opening up first and allowing Lance to come to him before making any attempts of touch or prodding at his state. And once he had? Well, he had seen Lance cry before, sure, but just sniffles and the occasional tear that was quickly brushed away and dismissed with a laugh. Never had Hunk seen the amount that had made his shirt soaked in the mindscape.

“Yah,” Hunk rested his headset on his lap. “But he’s still kind of frail, mentally anyways.”

Pidge scooted closer. “Did my modifications to the headset work?”

“I think so… I mean, I couldn’t really get a good look at myself in the meld, but he kept looking around me rather than at me… so maybe?” Hunk shrugged. It was like trying to get a look at your own face without a mirror.

“Your quintessence could be considered an extension of you. It’s how we all connect and bond with our lions,” Pidge said, “It’s possible that he was actually seeing the you that Yellow sees. The real you, so to speak.”

“Oh, that’s weird.” Hunk suddenly felt self-conscious. “Do you think I have something weird on me? I mean he looked pretty calmed down after hugging it out with me, so it couldn’t have been that bad?”

“Hunk,” Keith interrupted, “Cool it.”

“Right. Yah.” Hunk shifted on the bed, crossing his legs.

“Now, did Lance ask for us at all?” Keith asked, “Did he ask about the real world?”

“Not at first…” Hunk said, “But he did say that he wants to see another one of his friends, too, But-”

“I’ll go.” Keith cut in.

“ _But_ ,” Hunk emphasised, “I think we should give him some space so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed right now.”

“You said he wanted to see us!” Keith pouted. He flopped back in the chair with his arms crossed.

“Yes, _he_ does,” Pidge tilted her head lazily at him from her spot on the bed. ”But Keith, knowing Lance, he’s probably just excited that something new and important is happening, and want to take it in all at once. It won’t go well.”

Hunk brushed his hand through his hair, running out the kinks the headset left in. “Probably. I told him I’d bring more people, but I didn’t say when. I’ll visit him again tomorrow morning to make sure he won’t regress, and then _maybe_ we can try one other person.”

Keith pouted even more, not enjoying the news. Hunk understood.

They all wanted Lance back, but it was going to take a while.

* * *

 

Keith kicked the wall. Hard.

He didn’t care that it stung his toe like angry hornets. He didn’t care that Shiro saw him cussing like a Vatlen sailor when Keith walked past him to the training deck. And he definitely didn’t care that he wasn’t able to talk to Lance now that the idiot was back in his right mind.

No. He didn’t care.

Not one bit.

Keith was lucky – he had made it onto the training deck before Coran’s stupid code locked him out for the night. He shucked off his jacket, then his boots and belt pack, settling into a series of warmup stretches.

It wasn’t that Pidge had told him off for trying to join the mind meld while Hunk was in immersion. He knew that was reckless. _Lean forward, touch your toes._ It was more of the fact that Keith wanted to talk to Lance really bad again. It was all supposed to go back to normal once he got back. Hunk would be happier, Pidge would stop falling asleep everywhere, and Shiro would maybe get his act cleaned up a little and be less of a mess. _Draw the foot up._ Keith sat and pulled up his right foot to wedge it against his left thigh for the stretch.

Everything could go back to normal. But Lance had to come out. Keith had figured if they just shoved him in there next, Lance would jump out all on his own the moment he recognised him. No trouble, for the most part. But neither of his friends would allow him to take the dive in, saying it wouldn’t be good for Lance. _Shoulder stretch._

He snorted. Like Keith didn’t know what was good for his own _friend_. He might not have known Lance for as long as they had, but Keith still _knew_ him.

But Pidge was going to go tomorrow if things went well.

It was frustrating. It was the fact that with Lance gone, Keith felt a distinct absence of something in him, personally.

Pidge probably just wanted Lance back to make him the butt of her jokes again. That wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t as good of a reason as Keith’s.

Keith walked and talked and trained with something that felt like a hole in his heart. Sure, it was difficult for him to admit, but Keith _missed_ Lance.

He missed that stupid smirk, and that look when he got flustered, and how Lance would sing softly to himself in Spanish when he thought no one could hear. It was the things that Lance had thrown his way: his bothersome habits, the jokes, the _flirting_ , that Keith had adapted to handle. With Lance gone, it felt like he was compensating for something that wasn’t there.

He missed the quiet moments too. There had been so many nights that they would spend sifting through galaxies and their star systems, not a word spoken between them. Not because there was nothing to say, but because they already knew what the other would say. It was just enough to be around each other. Or those days spent doing nothing but watch endless movies on Pidge’s laptop (who needed a petabyte hard drive anyways?), making fun of the bad acting and horrid effects.

It had gone on too long. _Bend, slowly come up._

Keith had waited too long for Lance to come back. When the castle was attacked by Sendak and Lance was in the med pod for an entire day, that was hard enough on the team, but now they hadn’t been able to speak for over three months, and Lance was right there.

 _If they would just let_ me _talk to him. I could help him. He would come to for me! He would -_

The door to the training room slid open, and when Keith twisted to see who it was, he was greeted by a small wave from Shiro.

Damn, that guy looked like a total wreck, and more so than usual. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and he was missing his usual eyeliner. His forelock was plastered back and clipped against the top of his scalp with one of Allura’s jeweled pins. The hair was silvered and flat, wet from a shower. He was wearing a long sleeved loose shirt and baggy sweatpants, like he was ready to do some exercises with Keith, but he had decided to sit up against the wall before joining in.

Keith finished his warmups and was about to request a sparring bot, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Shiro, leaning like a sack of potatoes, feeling sorry for himself. Keith sighed. Fine.

“Shiro,” He called, shifting all of his weight to one hip. “Stop being sad. Come spar with me.”

The Black Paladin waved him off, but Keith insisted.

“Keith, really, I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”

Keith nodded. “And I’m doing absolutely peachy. Now you’re stuck with me, and we’re sparring together.”

Shiro sighed, looking to the door briefly before giving in, like he was expecting someone to come in and save him. He rolled up the sleeves on his shirt to his elbows. “One round. Hand to hand?”

“Anything goes,” Keith replied. Shiro knew too well. When they were kids they would wrestle together on the carpet in the living room, when Keith was twelve they both joined a MMA club and then their roughhousing was evicted to the backyard. When team Voltron was shot out into space, their catharsis came in the form of sparring on the training deck. They always had a kind of tandem when they practiced together, reading each other without words and being able to voice their frustrations through their bodies.

The two of them lined up, taking on their stances, and locked eyes before they began.

Keith had no idea who moved first, but he found himself ducking and throwing out a sweeping kick at Shiro’s left leg.

The man didn’t have time to react, and was knocked flat on his back with a rush of air escaping hi lungs in a strangled gasp. Shiro coughed a few times, trying to regain his breath. His coughs turned into weak laughter, “Pretty sure you said sparring, not knocking an old man on his back right off the bat.”

Keith stretched out his hand in offering to Shiro, pulling the Black Paladin up into a stand from the floor. “If you don’t want your ass handed to you, you should at least try. And you’re not old, you’re being a drama queen.”

“I’ll try not to get offended by that,” Shiro said. He dusted himself off. “I just feel old, having to take care of everyone.”

Keith’s brows furrowed. “You don’t have to. Take care of us, I mean.”

Shiro scoffed, “Of course I do. Who else will?”

The Red Paladin backed out of Shiro’s range. “Hunk.”

“Don’t rely on Hunk for everything. He’s young, and he definitely has his limits.”

“Coran.”

“He’s your second choice?”

Keith wrung his hands, getting back into the starting position. Hopefully he could make Shiro forget he only said one round. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s ancient like me.”

“Shiro, you’re not old!” Keith pointed at him, “Stop saying you are!”

The Black Paladin laughed, tapping his forehead. “It’s all up here. I’m older than all of you combined, though I don’t exactly look it.” He waved Keith off, going to sit back against the wall. Apparently he hadn’t forgotten. “It’s catching up to me.”

Keith followed him to the wall in disappointment. Shiro hardly ever passed up an opportunity to beat him in hand to hand.

Shiro offered him a water pouch, which he begrudgingly took. Keith brushed his bangs up off his forehead, gathering his hair in a shit attempt at a ponytail. Shiro raised an eyebrow at him on Keith’s third attempt, and silently took the elastic in his own hands. He easily tied back the hair, much to Keith’s annoyance.

“And you say you don’t need me to take care of you.”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now things will start to get a move on! (ง ˙o˙)ว


	6. Pidgey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pidge admits to being an air vent gremlin, Lance promptly forgets about his visitors, and Allura finally makes the jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 06 is the chapter of recovering from realising things, since that is what 2016 has been.  
> But now at least my motivation is back up since it started snowing! Though I could do without the extreme cold warnings, thanks Canada.

Pidge wanted to die.

Two consecutive all-nighters tended to do that to people. Of course, for Pidge, that meant she was only in the beginning stages of living death.

But she was too worked up to get any sleep. There were too many things to think about, to calculate, to code. She had to keep working so Lance could get back. So things could go back to relative normal.

There was only one thing she was tired of right now, and that was Allura and Coran beating around the bush.

Pidge figured that she would make an appearance on the Bridge just to let the Alteans know that she was, indeed, alive. Allura was keeping herself busy with consulting her two assistants about the next wormhole jump. The bi-daily occurrence was the main focus of the assistants – Jenel, a literally willowy alien, and Ordeile, a dark scaled lizard man – scouting systems that had little to no Galra activity, trying to please the princess with their findings.

It had gotten easier in the past year before Lance had been captured – the Voltron Alliance had successfully pushed the Empire out of over an eighth of the galactic cluster. Usually the Castle of Lions hung around the edges of the Empire now, occasionally retreating into the Alliance territory for restocking and ‘shore leave’ for their crew.

Since they had been trawling Galra space for Lance’s whereabouts for the past three months, they were in a stretch of space that wasn’t particularly safe. Now that they had Lance, they hadn’t made any jumps out of the silent system where they had retreated to lick their wounds, so they must be getting ready to make a jump back into friendly territory.

Now by what Pidge meant by ‘beating around the bush’ is that when she entered the bridge to talk to Allura and Coran, Allura chose that very second to become completely absorbed with what her two twittering assistants had to say. It was a simple wormhole jump, for the love of Quiznak.

Coran was… well, he was just gone. Where he goes, nobody knows.

Pidge settled herself in the captain’s chair, legs thrown up over one armrest and head resting on the other. Her tailbone was going to be numb as heck later but the position was dramatic.

Allura _finally_ finished talking to her assistants, turning to return to the chair. She stopped short when she saw Pidge.

“Oh, Pidge, you actually came out.”

“The air vent gremlin lives,” Pidge replied, sweeping her arms out in a grand gesture.

Allura cocked an eyebrow. “Yes. I suppose. Would you like something?”

“Oh, no.” Pidge tilted her head. “Just didn’t want you guys to call my time of death before I actually kicked the bucket. You know, the standard procedure we have going.”

The princess allowed a smirk to shape her mouth. “I would’ve caught your dramatic death on my monitors if you had.”

“Allura, always watching.” Pidge grinned back. “It’s true. When I die, it’s probably going to be huge. I’m going out with a bang.”

“I’d rather you didn’t die, Pidge,” Allura said. “I’d very much miss you. Green would be distraught… like Blue.” Her voice suddenly lost its playful tone.

“But Lance isn’t dead.”

“And look at the pain Blue has still endured along with him,” Allura said. She paused for a long time, and Pidge felt the stress coming from the princess. “Losing a Paladin is one of the most painful things a Lion can emotionally experience. If Lance had been lost, we would have known.”

Pidge slowly drew herself up onto her elbows. “Is that why –”

“Why I didn’t replace Lance?” Allura cotton candy coloured eyes somehow turned dark. “You forget that I share a connection with the Lions as well, Pidge. It’s not nearly as strong as it is when they have Paladins, but I can sense some things. If one of the Lions senses their Paladin’s death, then their bond falls to me. But Blue never let go of Lance. If I were to try to pair her with another, they wouldn’t last two minutes under the strain of her quintessence.”

Pidge swallowed. Allura had once told them what happened to those who were not Paladins who attempted to pilot a Lion. _Cortexal Rupture._ In other words, their brains literally were turned into smoothies inside their skull by the quintessence’s presence.

“Never once did I ever consider putting another, not even myself, in Blue’s cockpit.”

The Green Paladin suddenly felt very small. “Yes ma’am.” In the silence that followed, Pidge’s watch beeped, breaking the two out of their awkward standstill. “Anyways, report over. Holt is out.” Pidge shifted out of the captain’s chair and slipped out of the bridge.

Allura called after her. “I want you on deck for the jump with everyone else this time!”

Pidge saluted jauntily, then exited as quietly as she could, opening and closing the door manually.

She trotted down the hallway, keeping to the walls by pressing her hand to it.

She nearly jumped twice her height when a hand clapped down on her shoulder.

“Holy shit!”

“Pidge, cool your jets! It’s just me!” Hunk stage whispered.

Pidge didn’t feel like her jets were cooled. She spasmed like she had been tasered, shrieking like a banshee.

“Hunk for the love of Quiznak, don’t _do_ that!” She shied away. Pidge tried to get her breathing under control before continuing. “Did you get everything?”

Hunk was holding a bulging rucksack over his one shoulder. The fruits of Pidge’s labour (specifically keeping Allura’s eyes off the monitors) were all stuffed in there.

“Yah, enough to last a few days.”

“Actually, we’re making the jump into ally territory today. I wasted time and reported my ‘living’ status, so she most likely won’t send anyone to check on me unless I don’t show up for the jump. You, on the other hand, are a different story.”

Hunk waved her off, “No, it’s fine. She doesn’t assume that I’m going to crawl up an air vent and die.”

Pidge grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hallway. “I’m going to ignore that. Everybody on this ship is so fucking rude. I should just hang out with Ti Reen because they don’t insult me.”

“Because their culture frowns upon rudeness,” Hunk followed her, allowing himself to be led by the forearm. “Come on, Pidge, don’t be so sour. ‘Kay, and you _can_ slow down.”

“We have exactly until the Allura intends to make a morning jump into an Alliance system. That means four hours. We’re going to have to report to the bridge for that jump, so we have limited time before we both have to be in the meld and for me to at least to trip his memory of me. From the amount of time that it took you to flippin’ talk to him, four hours is completely pushing it!”

“So you’re positive you want to go in before Keith?”

“What? Of course!” Pidge snorted. “He screwed everything up before when we all went in – imagine what it’ll be like when he’s on his own!” Hunk shrugged. “And there’s no way in hell I’m letting Keith see Lance first.”

They arrived at Pidge’s room, sneaking in like fugitives and snapping the lock button on the door before Hunk spilled the bag of supplies on the ground.

Hunk fixed a timer on his handheld for three and a half hours, then plugged it directly into his own headset. Coran had once shown them how to set a sort of timer on their mind melds like this, apparently Paladins of the past sometimes would sequester themselves away to do melds and no one could find them for days. Because time flowed inconsistently in the mindscape (especially in Lance’s messed up mindscape) they had to keep track of real time like this.

Pidge eyed it. Who knows how long they’d actually have?

Hunk and Pidge sat across from each other on Pidge’s bed, headsets on and eyes closed. Pidge could feel the concentration coming from Hunk through the stabilizing link, and she felt herself sinking into the mindscape as well.

_It wasn’t completely empty like before. It had actually taken on a recognizable hue of deep indigo that faded to pale blue when she looked up. The ground was littered with piles of brick debris, but some had been built into neat little towers, complete with windows and miniature parapets._

_“Whoa. Hunk?” Pidge was taken aback by her companion’s appearance in the meld. She knew she had edited how they were perceived but she hadn’t expected Hunk to look like a freaking_ golden boy _. “You look like a huggable Oscar.”_

 _Hunk grinned at her with a sideways glance, but then stumbled back, absolutely blown away by Pidge. “Dude – you look_ so _cool!”_

_“Really?”_

_“Ya, holy crow! It’s like… ah… like neurons firing all around you! And you’re all dark and there’s little green lights moving around your skin!” He dropped his hands. The aura around him shifted like fine dust in the wind. “I don’t know it’s so hard to describe.”_

_Pidge looked down at her hands. Still flesh coloured, loaded with hairline scars and scratches. No little firefly neurons firing around them, though. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to see her own quintessential appearance – she had told Hunk that before. But now she was curious._

_“I’ll just get Green to show me. Now where’s-”_

_“Who are you?”_

_Pidge jumped at the voice, but when she whipped around she saw him._

_Lance was perched oddly on the side of a pile of rubble; his mouth fell into a small ‘o’ shape when he saw her face. Pidge tensed. He didn’t look as horrible as before – he had replaced his ratty shirt somehow with a plain blue sweater – one that was far too large for him, and his hair looked like he had stopped pulling it out in clumps._

_“Lance.” She whispered breathlessly, scared that any other sound would scare him away, or cause him to throw up another wall like the last time she was in his mindscape._

_Hunk was already nearing Lance, slowly going to him step by step. He waited at the bottom of the brick pile, hand outstretched and waiting._

_The Blue Paladin was shaky still, sliding down the bricks to meet his best friend. His eyes, however, never left Pidge. He whispered something to Hunk once he reached him and was steady on his feet, and Hunk smiled reassuringly. “That’s Pidge.”_

_Pidge felt something tighten in her chest when Lance smiled at her. It was only a half-smile. He looked unsure at first._

_Hunk had told her that Lance knew who everyone was, with memories and such, but appearances eluded him. He was probably trying to fit Pidge into the memories that he associated with her. Or maybe he was just confused – Pidge wasn’t very good with people. She was a techie, dammit, not a psychoanalyst!_

_Lance stood wobbly by Hunk, taking his forearm for support._

_“Pidge… ah…” Lance struggled for his next word, twisting his mouth and pulling faces in an attempt to pull it out of his mind. “Pidge Gunderson… no, wait… Holt? Right?”_

_Pidge nodded. “Um… it’s Katie Holt – but you guys call me Pidge.”_

_“Pidgey.” He grinned._

_She would’ve had half a mind to swat him right then and there, but Pidge refrained. “I’m not one of your stupid Pokémon. It’s pronounced ‘Pidge’.”_

_Lance nodded. “Yah. I said that. Pidge. We were in the same unit at the Garrison. But… you look different from Hunk…” His eyes wandered up and down Pidge’s form, half awe, half curiosity._

_She had expected his recognition of her to be a bit more climactic, like Hunk had described his experience to be, but maybe it was good that he wasn’t breaking down at recognising her._

_“Yah,” Pidge said, granting him a smile. “See, I tweaked the Mind Meld headsets so they corresponded with our quintessence – based on the possibility of you recognising us based on our signatures rather than our physical form.”_

_He seemed to vaguely understand, but he was still wearing that weird fake half smile. She wanted to smack it right off his face – but that would make her no better than Keith. Pidge needed to pry him out of his defensive mindset, not drive him back in._

_She had to bring this down to a more…_ human _… level._

_“I changed how we look – so we appear to you as our true selves.”_

_“Okay?” Lance’s face screwed up in confusion. It looked like he was fumbling after a thought much like one would fumble with a slippery bar of soap._

_“I – I won’t bother trying to explain that part. But really, it’s okay.”_

_Lance suddenly lurched forward and grabbed Pidge by the shoulders. She was almost as tall as him, but she still jumped from nerves. His face was so close to hers, his eyes wide and watery. “But it’s you! Really, actually, Pidge!”_

_Man, did this guy have a rollercoaster of emotion in the mindscape._

_“Last I checked, yes.”_

_“Yah,” He laughed. “It’s you.”_

_“And you’re definitely you: you smell awful and your clothes look like shit, as per usual.”_

_“Pidge,” Hunk warned. She shrugged at him under Lance’s hands, then returned her devilish grin to Lance._

_He laughed though. He never laughed at Pidge’s jokes. He was always offended, but her cheap dig at his shitty sweater made him laugh. It was quiet, but his hands still squeezed Pidge’s shoulders and his eyes got all squinty like they always did when he smiled big._

_“You’re right. It is kinda shitty. I think it just popped on when I was working over there.” He tipped his head to indicate back towards the piles of bricks. “Though I think I’d rather have shoes than a sweater.” Pidge looked down, and sure enough, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. His feet were covered in white dust and had cuts and bruises all over the bottoms in testament to the climbing he did on the bricks._

_“Maybe your shoes will be next,” Pidge offered._

_Lance nodded; smile growing slack and sort of dopey. His hands slid off of Pidge’s shoulders. “Maybe. I think they took my other shoes.”_

_“They..?” Pidge was about to stop him when he just… wandered away… but Hunk gave her a look that said ‘_ no’ _._

_Lance moved slowly, with no particular direction. He observed the bricks with unrestrained wonder. It looked like he didn’t even recall that he had been in a conversation with Pidge just moments before. Hunk had been very clear that they couldn’t make Lance do anything he didn’t want to in the mindscape. She knew that. He was prone to emotional snapping here, especially after what Haggar had done to him. It became painfully apparent who ‘they’ where now._

_Pidge and Hunk had to be careful with him._

_Lance had taken a seat on the edge of one of the brick piles, between two mismatched towers that he had made beforehand. He patted the bricks next to him fondly._

_Pidge leaned over to Hunk, “Was he like this before?”_

_“Not really, before he was all over the place and was really aggressive,” Hunk said, low. “Now he’s kinda just mellowed out.”_

_“And how do you explain the sweater?”_

_“Maybe he got comfortable enough after he recognised me to mentally get himself clothes.”_

_“Or he’s fixing himself?”_

_“Maybe. It is possible. He started making the towers after my first visit. And the brick piles are… well they’re a bit more organised.”_

_“Ah.”_

_Hunk opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by something that only he could hear. He scowled. “The timer’s up.”_

_“Are you kidding me?” Pidge hissed, “We just got here!”_

_“The mindmeld is super unreliable, you know that.” Hunk offered her a smile. “At least he’s comfortable with you – that’s more than what I had on my first try. We can say our goodbyes and then we should get back.”_

_“Fine,” Pidge huffed. She looked over to Lance, who was enraptured by his own hands. “We’re going now, Lance… Lance?” He couldn’t hear her at all. She growled in frustration, just settling for a simple wave, then left the mind meld with a brief pop._

* * *

 

Pidge came too, sprawled out on her bed, legs over Hunk’s chest, since he has somehow fallen sideways on the bed, head uncomfortably angled against the wall. He came back to consciousness with a snort and a jolt upwards.

Hunk sitting up almost sent Pidge flipping off the bed, but instinct flew her arms out and grabbed the sheets, awkwardly making her hang off the mattress on a precarious angle.

Pidge gave into sweet absolution and released the blankets, thumping onto the ground on her side.

Hunk cringed. “Geez… sorry, Pidge.”

She waved him off. “Death or dignity; can’t have both.” Pidge stayed on the ground, blindly slapping her hand around in an effort to find her glasses.

“Oh, come on.”

Pidge found her glasses, then perched them on top of her head while she rubbed her eyes. She yawned, eyes wandering the room. The clock declared that they had the Altean equivalent of twenty minutes before the jump.

“Shit. We should go,” Pidge jumped up and dashed into her closet. She could hear Hunk bolting out of the room too, the lock beeping and then the door rasping shut behind him as he left.

Pidge rummaged through the drawers in her closet and hastily got dressed. She shucked off her tank and pants and traded them for her bodysuit, then hurriedly clipped on the plate armour. She made it out of her room with fifteen minutes to spare, which would get her to the bridge with about five minutes before the jump.

She hastily tied her hair back in a messy bun as she dashed out of the door, and she nearly collided with Shiro.

He had been walking slowly with his head down, struggling with the clasps on his left vambrace. Pidge knocked him over, and the two of them to the floor in a confused jumble of limbs.

Her hair elastic had snapped, much to her chagrin. Pidge scowled at the elastic that now lay two feet away on the floor: the embodiment of broken dreams and catastrophes. It had been her last one.

“I’m so sorry, Pidge, I wasn’t looking –”

“Holy hell, man, you look like shit.” And he did. He had bags under his eyes that resembled deep, ugly bruises; his forelock was a mess, like he had been sleeping flat on his face, and his hands were all jittery. Pidge took his hand and pulled him into a stand. She also took his vambrace, “Need help?”

Shiro nodded sheepishly, allowing Pidge to slide the vambrace onto his human arm. “I think the calibration is off on my arm… can’t get it to cooperate…”

“We can get it fixed once we get back into friendly territory. We can contact Vlair and get him to work on it.” _And keep you busy_. Pidge buckled the three clasps, then patted it when she was done. “We’re lucky it’s held out this long, actually. Six months in the field with only minor repairs is stretching fate’s good will.”

The Black Paladin nodded, making a small sound of affirmation.

They started down the hall together, Pidge setting a brisk pace, but holding back a bit so that Shiro could keep up. She kept time in her head, even when they made idle conversation, and got them to the bridge with a minute to spare before the wormhole jump.

When they came in, rather unceremoniously, all the heads on deck whipped in their direction. Pidge was half expecting to hear some witty remark from the Blue Paladin – but after so many months of his absence in reality, she wasn’t shocked when it didn’t come.

Hunk was eyeing her warily, but Pidge only returned a stern gaze. And Keith – oh holy hell, _Keith_ might have looked calm on the outside, but his eyes told a whole different story. The violet eyes of the Red Paladin were like sheet lightning. He didn’t seem too pleased that Pidge had _actually_ gone into the mind meld first before he did.

Well, tough nuggets for him.

“Sorry we’re late,” Shiro apologized. “Got held up.”

“No worries!” Coran chirped, “We were just about to start!”

“Which planet are we going to?” Shiro asked, going with Pidge to take their seats.

Allura answered that one with an absent tone, since she was buried nose deep in holocharts and readings for the castle. “Pol Alare. It’s should be about a ten second jump.”

Jenel breezily tossed a handheld to Ordeile, who started punching in some sequence. “Harbour authorities have been alerted to our arrival,” Jenel said. “We have clearance for the Vel sector, and will be escorted to Pol Alare by towing vessels.”

Allura nodded, then closed her eyes and placed her hands on the control pads. “Initiating Wormhole jump.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sadly finger guns past self* Why do you do this to myself?


	7. The Mechanics of Many Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shiro gets closer to being less of a wreck, Keith falls out of a tree, and Lance gets his shoes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This wait... heh. Chalk this one up to exams and stress. (;﹏;)
> 
> Also, I've decided to start the Slav fanclub because he is beautiful and deserves more than to be stomped on by the fandom. Send me positive Slav content. Please.

The jump seemed over before it had even started, and the view from the bridge had almost instantaneously been swapped for another. One moment they stared out to space, next, there was a glistening planet and port ahead of them.

The planet of Pol Alare and her moon, Bel Alon, were home to a highly advanced civilization. Two years prior, it had closely bordered the Galran Empire, but they had fought tooth and nail to keep the Empire out of their system and surrounding galaxy. When Voltron had come to their aid, their forces combined, and pushed the Galra out of the sector.

Pol Alare was a stunning planet, as an understatement. Its cities rose from emerald seas, dotting the planet with a vast network of spiraling towers, citied islets, lengthy bridges, and flying arches. They were made of limestone, white granite, and gold, and the tower capstones were all tipped with what the locals nicknamed ‘starlight stones’, which were giant crystals that resembled stars. The flying arches between the towers could house thousands of inhabitants, and the islets were paradises, each with their own unique culture.

 The entire planet was a piece of architecture to put other civilizations to shame.

Bel Alon, also known as the ‘Living Moon’ served as the industrial sector for the water planet – the green and earthy moon was ideal for the rearing of livestock and hosting interplanetary markets and such.

Between the two was the famous harbour, the Alluran Nexus, named after the Princess shortly after that system’s joining of the Alliance. There had been lots of blushing and stuttering.

The space harbour was slightly bent to hug the curvature of Pol Alare, stretching for as far as the eye could see. It was constructed of white metal, contrasting the void of space like a halo with bright starlight stones lining the ports, which were bustling with ship activity. Trade within the Voltron Alliance was booming, so much so that systems were beginning to pull together their own fighting forces to both be on the defense and offense.  Occasionally a fleet would join the Castle before moving off on their rotations – defending the perimeter of the Alliance’s territory was a full time job.

Pidge sighed in relief. Pol Alare had been almost the go-to for the team for their main supply runs (she suspected it had something to do with its close resemblance to Altea), and it almost felt like a second home at this point. For that reason, it acted as the main centre of democracy in the Voltron Alliance – representatives from all aligned planets would meet at summits held ten times an Alaren year in the Alliance Council. They oversaw everything from trade to military movements.

It didn’t take long for four silver towing ships came to pull them down into the atmosphere of Pol Alare – these ships were wedged shaped in the front, with large thrusters and engines in the back section. It took about a minute, and the team was already scrambling to get out of their chairs and out the door. Through the window Pidge could see the rapidly oncoming towers of the capital city, Vesta Calda (Translated literally, it’s _Shiny Jewel_ ). There was a slight shudder as the ship tilted upright and took its place on one of the landing strips.

If they knew anything about this planet’s locals, it was that they were ones for enthusiastic welcomes, and if they weren’t out by the time they got on the dock, their greeting party would most likely come onto the ship in pursuit of them.

Pidge shouldered out of the bridge, next to Keith. He was still glowering at her, but she dismissed it. Now was not the time to be all pouty.

It only took them a few minutes to get to the doors, and a few moments to collect themselves and their breath. Allura braced herself before opening the door.

As the white sunlight flooded in, so did the sounds. After being on the castle ship for so long, Pidge had almost forgotten what a city sounded like. Vesta Calda roared with hover vehicles, star cruisers, the crashing sea below, and the sounds of avian creatures and the inhabitants of the planet.

Their welcoming party was just as loud, some dignitaries bowing deep in the presence of Allura, others running forward and tackling the Paladins with tight hugs and laughter. There also looked like a journalist huddle that was separated from the main group – all of them with handhelds, either taking pictures or furiously typing notes.

Pidge hadn’t been on the receiving end of any of the hugs, thank goodness. She stayed tucked off to the side, but she could still see her fellow Paladins.

Shiro was being greeted by old friends – past slaves that he was fought alongside in the arena, and ones that they had freed in the past how many years. These ones weren’t as afraid of him as the first group, since they had known each other behind the scenes. Keith hung behind him, granting rare smiles.

Hunk was completely occupied with his hug buddy – Shay. From Balmera X-95-Vox. Shortly after the formation of the Alliance Council, she had been asked to serve as ambassador for her people on Pol Alare. It had done her well, Pidge supposed. She was dressed elegantly, though in a style still of her culture, and wore jewelry that was encrusted with Balmera crystals. The two crystals that hung from her left earring tinkled when they knocked together. She was so different from when they first met – so much more mature and keen in thought. She had a great mind for politics because of it, which was why she was the best candidate for ambassador.

There was a group of men and women – all young – hanging together, no smiles on their faces, only pinched with worry. Pidge knew them. They were Lance’s adoring fans, otherwise known as the ones that flirted back. They were waiting for him to walk off that ship. To get their eyes off of her, Pidge moved along, and despite her better judgement, Pidge drew close to Shay and Hunk’s smiles. Shay’s overlarge hand rested on Pidge’s shoulder, the armlets and bangles tinkling. “And how fares the Green Paladin?”

Pidge granted a smile, “Just a little tired is all.”

“Rest you may, on Pol Alare,” Shay smiled back warmly. She returned her gaze to Hunk, “You will stay at the Yona Vel Villa again, I hope?” (Another thing of note about the Alerans was their affinity for two part names. It was annoying at first, but Pidge figured anything could sound like one word if one slurred their mouth a little.)

“Of course! That’s why Allura bought the place, after all.”

Shay smiled, then leaned in close to Hunk and Pidge, murmuring so only they could hear. “News of Paladin Lance’s retrieval has not yet become known to the public. They expect an announcement on a new Blue Paladin soon, and many are planning on favouring themselves to the Princess. I advise that you keep your guards up.” She pulled away, all smiles.

Hunk looked surprised at first, but Pidge elbowed him hard and encouraged him with an exaggerated, pained smile. _Just shut up and act normal_! Pidge coughed into her elbow. “It’s fantastic to see you again, too, Shay.”

It made sense, of course. If Team Voltron was in Vesta Calda, then they would be under unrelenting pressure to announce a new Blue Paladin – even if the press did find out about Lance being alive, they would see his… inactive… state as an invitation to push new candidates onto the Blue Lion. Even within the Alliance, planets were still had agendas they were pushing.

Apparently none of them had ever heard of Cortexal Rupture.

Yona Vel was a secluded little island (with a small supportive population in the surrounding archipelago) that Allura had secured for them, and was the perfect place for them all to hide out until this issue blew over. It would also be the perfect place to fix Blue – both Lion and Paladin – in peace.

Shay gave them both a look that said ‘ _We’ll talk about this later_ ’. 

By the time they opened their little circle to return to Allura, they found that she was being swarmed by dignitaries and the media. The word ‘blue’ was being thrown around quite a bit by the nosy reporters, but Allura was intent on properly greeting the dignitaries before even recognising the existence of the recorders and cameras.

So cool and composed…

Shiro and Keith appeared behind Hunk and Pidge and Shay, Shiro’s living hand going to Pidge’s shoulder. Keith spoke, quietly. “Apparently there’s a lot of stuff going down in Vesta Calda right now – it would be best if we stayed away from the capital’s politics.”

Hunk turned a little, but his eyes never left the reporters, all perched like starved harpies, waiting to get a good shot of the Paladins. “We were just talking to Shay about that! You know we-”

Pidge interrupted. “We should go to our villa on Yona Vel!” Everyone’s heads snapped to her, Shiro and Keith looked a little confused. Pidge tried to be as straightforward as she could. “ _And_ take the Lions with us. Then we can work on fixing Blue -” _and Lance_ “- away from people and the press.”

Shay smiled sidelong at Pidge. _Girls: we get the job done._

“And leave Allura this mess?” Shiro looked doubtful.

“Allura has Coran! _Please_ Shiro?” Pidge whined. Pidge hoped that it would work. Oh, Space God let this work.

Shiro hesitated for a moment, eyes lingering on Allura for a moment, then he sighed in resignation. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

* * *

 

It hadn’t taken much to get Allura to agree to stay in Vesta Calda while the Paladins went ahead to the villa. She said she was going to handle the issues revolving around the Blue Paladin scramble with Coran in the capital, and it would be better if the Paladins steered clear of the press to keep their story straight.

So it was only two hours after their arrival that the team was on an airship to Yona Vel. The ship was more of a barge, seeing that they were carrying all of the lions in the hangar. Usually they’d fly the lions, but Black was hooked up to Blue, keeping her in shutdown mode. There was very little room for the Paladins and their company – three residents from the ship, along with Eurelle and Ti Reen, who had Lance’s healing pod in tow.

Thank goodness it was only a half hour flight to Yona Vel.

It was about midday when the ship descended into the waters of the Yona Kappa Archipelago. The Archipelago was actually centered around Yona Vel, a two kilometer long crescent island, which was loosely haloed by a series of islets of varying sizes, the closest of which was Yona Dekka, which was home to a small town that was responsible for the upkeep of the estate on Yona Vel.

All of the islands were forested with green, with white sand and white cliffs, especially the ones that fenced inwards to the bay of Yona Vel. The Yona Vel Villa sat at the highest point of the cliff. It was tiered, the outer sections were squat, and the highest portion was four stories high. The walls were some weird marble substance that as white as snow. The roofs were made of white shale, the only colour coming from the bluish glass ornaments that were pressed into the outside walls of the villa. One could also see the far less traditional hangar bay door that was cut from the cliff. The teal particle barrier kept birds and other… things… from intruding.

Pidge liked the island – it was quiet. There were hardly any people around to bother them, and forests were beginning to grow on her. And now, with no idea of how long it was going to take Allura to get away from Vesta Calda, they were going to have all the time in the world to talk to Lance, and to bring that boy back.

Before Keith could make a move, Pidge snagged him by the collar and dragged him off of the ship, onto the beach, and up the steps that led up to the lowest tier of the villa. She made sure he had lost sight of Lance’s pod before he had a chance to properly form a sentence of protest.

Keith stumbled into the front hall when Pidge released him with a toss of her arm. He dusted himself off with a huff.

The courtyard was circular, like the entire villa – it was all white and columned and the very far side of it opened with billowing curtains to a balcony that overlooked the bay. On either side of the main hall there were passages that led to separate parts of the villa, and the spiral staircase directly in the center of the courtyard bloomed outward from the top into flying walkways that led to the upper levels.

Keith made disgruntled sounds, glowering at Pidge.

Pidge scowled. “He’s not dead, you know.”

Keith whipped his head around to check for others, but it was just them. Shiro and Hunk had gone with the others to get the house’s systems booted up for their residency. When he saw they were clear, he looked like he wanted to say so much more, but he also looked like he was restraining himself.

“How is he, then?” Was all he could force out.

Pidge’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He’s… better.”

“Well that’s fantastic.” Keith’s sour tone ruined the sentiment. He turned to leave, but Pidge stopped him.

“Keith,” She said, voice low. “As soon as it’s time, we’ll let you know. Really, we will. He thinks he’s ready, but we need to pace him.”

Keith furrowed his brows. “I know.” Then he left, striding down the east hall towards his apartments.

She watched him go, but muttered under her breath. “But you’re still mad.”

* * *

 

Shiro sat on the edge of the hole in Blue’s head. He leaned heavily forward, using his human arm for support. Pidge was puttering about, pulling wires out of their bundles and opening the ends to receive the skeleton of the new cockpit that dangled above Blue by a crane.

Blue was still shut down– Black was directly hooked up to her via a physical link, keeping the Blue Lion down, so they wouldn’t have a repeat of her latest incident back on the Castle of Lions.

Hunk was sitting on the crane’s arm, reading from the instructions that went with the new skeleton – the resident representatives of the Olkari delegation in Vesta Calda had replicated the design to the dot from the archives that were in the Castle of Lion’s system. But it had taken them forever to find the resources they needed to make it so; making a cockpit for a giant robotic lion wasn’t as simple as the Alteans made it sound, and since the Olkari were specialists in plant matter, rather than flat out metal, it was a slight challenge.

Hunk and Pidge had done their best during their previous repairs, but still, the dent they had made was incredibly small in comparison to the work still ahead.

Shiro’s Galra tech arm was wrapped up and held in a sling snug against his chest – it was getting more and more in the way. Pidge described the deterioration of its state to be like a pair of headphones: it shows one small sign of disrepair and in the course of ten minutes, it’s kaput. He was in charge of tossing Pidge the tools she needed, but she already had the majority of them hooked onto her utility belt.

Shiro could hear the sea birds that wheeled outside of the hangar, the crashing of the water against the cliff below the door, and the clicking of the leaves on the villa’s giant Boan Ten tree. Despite the particle barrier, the ocean air still flowed into the hangar on a pleasant breeze, and ruffled his hair.

Hunk droned off of the last instruction from the handheld, mumbling it to himself, then paraphrasing it to Pidge. “It says to orient the main bundle of cables to the left of the cockpit.”

Pidge cursed, then jerked on the bundle of cables to pull it forward. “I can’t believe we didn’t ask for one of the Olkari to just come here and help us.” She finally drew the bundle out as far as she could, and strapped it down to a truss with a strap from her utility belt. “That’s everything?”

“Yah, that’s the last one.” Hunk shimmied his way down the arm of the crane back to the control section.

Together they guided the new skeleton down into the waiting cockpit, and together, Pidge and Hunk pulled the wires into their proper places for their work the next day. Shiro tried to be of help, picking up after them and doing what he could with his one hand. He tried not to get in their way, and if he did, they didn’t say anything.

Pidge rubbed down her hands with a rag, eyeing down Shiro’s prosthetic. “We’re going to get that puppy fixed today.” Shiro breathed a sigh of relief and she smiled. “We should get some stuff together and then head off with the skiff to Yona Dekka to meet Vlair.”

“That would be amazing.”

“And Hunk?” Pidge held out the rag to him.

“Yes ma’am?” Hunk took the rag from her, wiping down his own hands.

“Take some time to get some _things_ done.” Something seemed to pass between the two of them that Shiro didn’t understand. Maybe it was some weird techie thing the two were working out, or maybe Shiro was just hearing things, but he felt out of the loop on this one. Pidge offered him her arm in a very stately manner. “Shall we?”

* * *

 

Keith was high up in the Boan Ten tree, outside of the villa. The Boan Ten was the biggest tree on the island, its trunk located several hundred feet from the villa, yet it’s branches still extended over the rooftop and courtyards. Its bark was smooth and springy, and its waxy leaves were dark green slivers that _click_ ed or _shnick_ ed together. It was a phenomenal climbing tree, but in the past, whenever Keith and Lance had a race to the top, neither of them could make it before birds chased them away, or Lance would fall, or they were distracted by something else. It had been one of their favourite pastimes at the villa whenever they weren’t with the rest of the team – Keith basically had the entire bottom half of the Boan Ten committed to memory, and could make it through with his eyes closed.

However, Keith was not trying to climb to the top of the tree today. He was high up, but he was on the farthest branches, the ones that hung over the roofs of the villa and among the walls.

Keith guessed that he was close to Hunk’s apartment: the overriding yellow colour scheme of the décor gave it dead away.

He hadn’t meant to be looking around someone else’s rooms from the Boan Ten. His own window was close to one of the boughs, so he had climbed aboard and wandered aimlessly on it, trying to distract himself.

Mainly he knew he was stewing too much over how adamant Pidge was about keeping him away from Lance. Keith understood her concern, based on his risky and idiotic move during their first attempt to reach Lance with everyone in the meld, but it was different now. Keith _knew_ he could help, dammit. He’d be more careful, for sure. He’d just try to talk to Lance, just be present in the mindscape – wasn’t that what Hunk and Pidge did? Maybe he would talk to Hunk about going in the meld together while Pidge was too busy to interrupt or stop him.

He was just about to leave when he saw Hunk enter the room that Keith peered into. Upon closer inspection, Keith saw that his arms were full of Mind Meld headsets and a large bag, which he dumped on the bed with a sigh. Two seconds later, Hunk dumped himself on the bed face first with an even more dramatic sigh.

Keith heard Hunk scream into the mattress multiple times, each more pathetic and tired than the last. It would have been comical, but then Keith remembered that he was the one climbing about a tree (he also screamed into his mattress on a regular basis, so he couldn’t judge at all). Keith edged out on the branch – it was getting dangerously thin, but he didn’t realise until the very last moment.

The last moment, meaning: when the branch dipped, unceremoniously depositing Keith face first onto the balcony.

The undignified yelp and the general sound of his body hitting the stone was enough to jerk Hunk to attention.

“What..?” He propped himself up, distancing himself from the sorry heap on the balcony.

Keith groaned, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He rubbed his sore nose, brows drawn together. “Boan Ten.” He said, as if that would answer everything.

“That’s not creepy at all,” Hunk grimaced. “Watching me from the tree.”

“Well then don’t make it creepy!” Keith scowled. “I was just climbing the tree and ended up by your window, big coincidence.”

Hunk sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. “Look, I know you really want to talk to Lance, but don’t you think that parkouring into my room from the Boan Ten is going a little far?”

“I told you it was an _accident_.”

Hunk huffed, getting off his bed to offer Keith a hand. The Red Paladin accepted the help and stood up.

“I guess I have to believe you,” Hunk said. “Pidge told me to get some _things_ done,” he said, looking at the headsets in a telling manner. “I think we should go for another meld sooner rather than later.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Lance was super receptive with Pidge, so I think he’ll be up for seeing you too.” Hunk glanced at him sidelong. “But you need to promise you’ll behave.”

“I promise. It won’t be like last time.” Keith said earnestly.

“Good. I recalibrated the sets and got Pidge’s code in for long distance, so we can go in right away.”

Hunk handed him a headset from off the bed, then snatched up and held out a bag of food – the one he had gone to grab from the ship when they were preparing to leave. So that was what was inside. “Just eat up before we go in. Time’s screwy in there, ya know?”

Keith nodded, taking a ration bar and peeling back the foil. He stuck the bar in the corner of his mouth so he could grab the headset.

He stuck it on his head as Hunk was unwrapping his own food. It settled in his hair, the cool metal pressing to his temples. Keith sucked in a breath, closing his eyes and readying himself for the dive.

While he was a great pilot, that was mostly based off of instinct – these headsets relied on thinking and method, that was why Pidge was always the first one to get into the melds. Keith had to work at it, and getting into a full dive meld usually took him a minute of concentration.

 _What will Lance be like now?_ Hunk and Pidge said he was doing better, but that was all relative. _First I have to get into the meld._

“’Kay, almost ready, don’t jump in yet, Keith.” Hunk’s voice made Keith flinch.

Keith whispered back. “Don’t worry about me.” _Great. Now I’ll have to start all over again and… wait._ He suddenly felt like he was drifting, slipping, like he was phasing out and he knew that _he was in the mind meld._

_He staggered forward, cursing. “Hunk! Hunk!” Keith called, spinning around, trying to locate his friend. He remembered that since time was screwy, he had no way to gauge when Hunk would come through, especially since he had to do his own prep and dive._

_Keith scanned the area again, just to be sure, but Hunk was nowhere in sight. There was only the surrounding mindscape._

_It was warmer now – a breeze floated through, smelling like it had drifted off a lake. The light was soft, and the surface beneath his feet felt earthen._

_What really caught his attention, however, was the structure that cropped up from the ground in a patch. It was all wooden beams that were supported by struts and other planks. Some stretched farther and higher than others, forming the beginning of a steeply pitched roof, and completely the frame of what looked like… a house._

_Lance sat on the front step of the house, elbows on his knees, looking quizzically at Keith._

_Keith was taken aback for a moment at Lance’s appearance. He didn’t look nearly as messed up as the first mind meld – his hair looked like it was growing back in, and he was wearing an oversized sweater, as well as shoes, now. They were those stupid high top white converse of his._

_Lance cocked his head at the newcomer, drawing his brows together. “You smell good.”_

_“I – I what?” Keith stammered, drawing back. He gave himself a quick sniff, but he didn’t smell anything that was off._

_“Smell.” Lance stood up, and suddenly he was only inches from Keith’s face. “Good. Like those little heart candies that burn your tongue. What’re those?”_

_Keith’s mouth got incredibly dry. “Eh, um, Cinnamon Hearts?” He tried moving away, but Lance followed him closely._

_“Yah… those.” Lance looked like he was digging for something in his own mind for a moment, then he brightened and smiled. “You know, my aunt would give them to us in church. Well, until Tammie ate five at once and nearly burned her tongue straight though.” He laughed lightly to himself. “Mama only let us have those mentos things after that.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“You’re… Keith?”_

_Keith’s heartrate suddenly picked up. “You remember?”_

_Lance smirked, straightening up and pulling on his sweater pocket. “Well, I’ve met Hunk and Pidgey, and Hunk said that Keith is all dark and kinda emo. So I think you’re Keith.” The Red Paladin would’ve bristled at the description (he was not emo, darn it all!) but he was trying to keep his cool. Especially since Hunk wasn’t there, he had to be careful that he didn’t startle or upset Lance._

_“I am.” Keith managed. “Keith, I mean.”_

_Lance smiled._

* * *

 

Pidge, ever the gentlewoman, offered her hand to Shiro, helping him hop off the skiff onto the dock.

Yona Dekka was a welcoming island, to the trained eye. To anyone with no idea of what they were looking for, it would simply be a forested island, but Pidge knew what she wanted, and her eyes easily found the path.

Following the path for five minutes on foot took them to the village of Yona Dekka. It was large, and all the buildings were white stone. The round homes and shops ringed around a central plaza, and extended up the hill. Some homes were carved into the hill, others were set into the ground, but all of them had large, wide doors.

The village was one of many that acted as a refuge for ex-slaves and prisoners who had difficulty adjusting to the big cities of Pol Alare. Those that came from tribal cultures and less advanced societies often opted to come to villages such as Yona Dekka.

The plaza bustled with activity – stalls, shops, and other things were traded, and the one table by the tavern was occupied by the same group of elders that alternated between smoking and drinking. Children played around the central fountain, the village’s main water source, fed by a spring. They were playing a marble game that Hunk and Lance had taught them, but the marbles were simple stones. Some of the children were tall, others short, all based on their species, but Pidge estimated them all to be around the same age.

Some of the spectating children waved at the two Paladins, and some of the older villagers paused their business to acknowledge them, with gestures varying from nods to deep bows. They gave their time to a few, but Pidge was sure to drag Shiro through the thick as quickly as possible into the second ring of street away from the plaza, down a cobbled street that featured craftsmen and artisans.

Pidge knew her destination well: fifth down and to the right, with the blue awning and glass wind chime. The doorway had a powder blue grommet curtain, but Pidge looked immediately for the string connected to the door frame.

“Would you like the honours?” Pidge asked, turning to Shiro. “You are his best customer.”

Shiro scoffed, raising his good hand to take the string. A short tug on the string sent off a soft chime ringing inside of the home.

Suddenly the curtain was roughly pushed aside, and Pidge’s eyes snapped up in shock, and she stumbled back.

The Galra’s teeth flashed in its grin. “Morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. It's real. Real genuine GALRA!
> 
> Sketch of Yona Vel can be found [right here](http://pidge-the-pigeon.tumblr.com/post/156385669347/sketch-of-the-island-from-my-fic-beautiful-minds) on my tumblr!


	8. Cinnamon Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shiro really needs some help, Blue is relevant again, and everyone else is driven to drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I just went back and changed Lance’s surname from McClain to Diaz because I now remember that McClain was actually supposed to be a placeholder under I actually found a good name for him… but I forgot...
> 
> Also the discovery of the TRAPPIST-1 system? HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHITTTT!!!  
> I just… love space… so much (づ｡ಥ‿‿ಥ｡)づ

 

“Dear heavens, Asrah, don’t scare me like that!” Pidge yelped, staggering back, hand over her thudding heart. “Coming out of the shadows like that!”

The Galra chuckled. She came out onto the street with Pidge and Shiro. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” She had her kit on her hip, clinging to her like a koala. The little guy had only just been born last Pidge had seen him, but now Daunek was so much bigger, at six months. Asrah readjusted him. “Vlair said you two were going to come by, to look at Shiro’s prosthetic.”

Shiro nodded. “If he has time.”

“You know we always have time for you Paladins,” She said, shepherding them into her home. The entrance hall was dim, but as soon as they emerged into the main living area it became significantly lighter, as the entire back wall was composed of windows, the curtains rolled up to half for the afternoon sun.  The house was far more modern inside than the outside – the furnishings were a mix of things bought from the capital and things made in the village. The kitchen and all the lighting and amenities were industrial, but the floor cushions around the squat table and the rugs and many other things were all hand made. “Make yourselves at home.”

Pidge grunted affirmation, dumping herself down on the floor cushions. The table was littered with papers and an array of handhelds, all detailing Asrah’s work. A quick look and it was obvious that Asrah was drafting calculations for a replica of a standard Galra ion cannon.

Before settling into a domestic life, Asrah had been a member of the Blades of Marmora, planted in the heart of the Galra Empire in their weapons development. After a series of incidents and rather spectacular explosions, she was too recognisable to be put back into the field. Now she replicated what she hadn’t been able to smuggle, helping the alliance develop countermeasure weapons and defenses.

Pidge straightened the sheaves of paper and moved them off to the side, and stacking the handhelds neatly on top. There was a bowl of plum-like yellow fruits, one of which Pidge picked out and took a bite of. The juice dribbled down her chin a little, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand. She spoke through her mouthful of fruit. “Vlair’s not home?”

“He’ll be here soon,” Asrah replied over her shoulder. She had a long braid running down her back, thick and violet, coming from between her large ears. She disappeared into the kitchen, then came out a few moments later with tumblers and a kettle that was venting steam. Her son was now clinging to her back like a knapsack, purring contentedly. His little fuzzy ears lay relaxed on his head, and his eyes were pressed into pleased lines.

Pidge was very close to saying that this kit was, dare she say, kind of cute.

Asrah’s ear flicked up, craning backwards to something she heard. “Vlair’s back now.”

The curtain to the back door was swept aside, and in stepped a Galra male. Vlair was a fraction taller than his mate, with a broad shoulders that he carried a large bag over. Asrah chirped a greeting as he made his way to her. He ruffled Daunek’s head fuzz, and briefly met foreheads with Asrah. Only once he was done greeting his family did he speak to his guests.

Shiro had once told Pidge that Galra traditional culture was centred around family, and it was only natural that, as guests, they would be kept waiting to speak until the familial greetings were done.

This was something Pidge wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. Seeing Galra act so… domestic.

Vlair parted from Asrah with a lingering touch, then sat on the floor cushion by Shiro, opposite from Pidge. “You look terrible.” He stated.

“So I’ve been told,” Shiro chuckled. He reached out, and Vlair grasped his forearm in semblance of a handshake. “You’re doing far better, though.”

“I clean up nice.” Vlair grinned. Something that looked threatening to Pidge, but it was still a genuine smile – she couldn’t blame him for those razor teeth. Vlair released Shiro’s arm, and dropped his bag off of his shoulders, loosening the drawstring and rooting through it for his tools. “So what’s wrong with the arm today?”

Pidge sighed, leaning forward over the table. “Fine motor skills went first. Limited reaction time. Then it went fast after that.”

Shiro removed the sling, laying the arm over the table, palm up. “It started skitzing out after we went through a signal kill zone on a mining colony a while back.”

Pidge’s head snapped up. It had been doing this since they rescued Lance? And he hadn’t told her, or Hunk? She had to notice it before he let on to anything? Pidge fumed silently.

Vlair kept up with polite conversation. “So, no sparring? That must have driven you crazy.”

“You know that doesn’t stop me. Keith roped me into sparring for a round.”

“And so makes my job harder.”  Vlair chuckled. He ran his finger along the hairline seam on Shiro’s metal forearm, then held for a moment. The panel clicked, and raised enough for him to get a claw under and pry up.

Pidge never got used to seeing the inside of Shiro’s arm. Under its shiny panels was a biomechanical mass that seemed to like the dark better than the light of the house. It was like a living thing that writhed when the light touched it, oily black corded muscle and the occasional glowing purple string that would wriggle up to the surface, only to be pushed down by the black stuff. It also emitted small squeaks that communicated data, but they were at such a frequency that only a Galra could hear it – one of the reasons only Galra could fix the arm. From what Vlair had once explained, it was a semi-sentient robeast – just really small and more robot than beast, a creature that fed off of Shiro’s quintessence like a leech.

Blessed few things made Pidge want to throw up, but this was one of them. Shiro even looked away.

Vlair leaned in, squinting at the writhing black cords. He murmured to himself, ear flicking back at the onslaught of information the robeast was squeaking furiously at him, and grabbed a hook from the bag. He nudged it directly into the mass, snagging a bundle of the cords, then pulled it out from the arm and onto the table.

He dipped his head to get a closer look. His eyes moved back and forth along the cord, his long tipped ears listening to the vehement noises that the robeast made. With a sigh, he leaned away. “Its synchro is off, that’s all. The scrambling from the signal kill might have thrown it off a little.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed. “We’ve gone through emitters before, and it always rights itself.”

“Well, ya, it has commands to self-diagnose and fix itself. It’s a smart little thing, but sometimes its sequences get scrambled, and this happens. The problem grows exponentially.”

“You know, I really do think you should get rid of _that_ prosthetic.” Asrah said, glancing tellingly at Shiro’s arm. She lowered herself carefully down on a cushion by Pidge, then brought Daunek down to rest in her lap.

Vlair leaned in, over the squirming insides of the arm. “You easily could have a replacement made. One that doesn’t require a Galran mechanic to repair it. I’m sure the Olkari would jump on the opportunity to craft a new one for you. Or that one bloke… Slav-”

“No.” Shiro interrupted. “Not him! God, not him.”

Pidge groaned, but it turned into laughter. “He’s busy at Vesta Calda’s university; we wouldn’t want to disturb him.”

Vlair paused, brows raised. “Oh? But he is a genius. Even I’ll admit as much.”

Shiro coughed. “I’m quite sure I never want to see Slav ever again. Besides, you’re one of the best mechanics we know.” Pidge cleared her throat, and Shiro rolled his eyes. “ _One_ of the best.”

_So I’m one of the best, but you won’t tell me about a skitzing prosthetic?_

Daunek squirmed in her lap, so Asrah let him crawl, but she kept an eye on him as she spoke. “Vlair and I stay here to help ex-slaves with prosthetics like you, Shiro, but we say the same thing to everyone. They are best to get serviced with new tech. I don’t mean to push, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again the next time you come in with that disgrace tied up in a sling.

"It causes more problems than it’s worth.”

* * *

 

_Lance had settled both of them down on the front stairs of the house, and was sitting very, very, close to Keith. He was chattering about something, but he kept on forgetting about what he was talking about halfway through his sentence, or would get ahead of himself and skip the majority of his thoughts. Keith tried to pay attention, he really did, but his mind started to wander away from Lance’s rambling._

_He leaned back on his arms, looking up at the frame of the house they were in front of. It was all pine – it smelled of it – and seemed even taller now that he was close to it._

_“You listening?” Lance leaned in, brow furrowed._

_Keith jolted to attention. “Yah, of course I am.”_

_Lance looked unconvinced, but he accepted it anyhow. His eyes wandered for a moment, looking out over the mindscape. Keith almost missed it, but Lance’s eyes suddenly lit up, and that boy was off like a shot. “Hunk!”_

_Keith bolted into a sitting position, just fast enough that he saw Lance take a running jump at a gold mass a hundred meters away. The fine gold dust clouds that surrounded it puffed when Lance tackled the golden figure, then reformed in swirling motes._

_Lance was laughing, and the greetings coming from the figure sounded awfully familiar – Hunk. Ah. That’s what he looked like in the mindscape._

_Crap._

_Keith could feel embarrassment crawling up his cheeks. He had left Hunk behind when he had been explicitly told to wait._

_Hunk returned Lance’s boisterous hug. “Lance, man, you’ve cleaned up in here! Did you build that?”_

_Lance pulled away slightly, his arms still linked around the back of Hunk’s neck. He scanned the ground around them, then the house that he had built. He looked back at Hunk quizzically. “It’s always been like this.”_

_Hunk seemed thrown for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “It didn’t change at all? Are you sure?”_

_The Blue Paladin released his hold from Hunk’s neck, dropping down to his feet again. He turned back to the house. “Um… yes. Definitely the same as last month. Or…” He paused. “Ah, Tobias and Dad might’ve fixed the raccoon problem.”_

_Keith watched closely as Lance took Hunk by the hand and guided him back to the steps of the house. Lance scanned the unfinished porch. “Yep. They definitely closed up that hole. And they put some chicken wire in.”_

_He was obviously seeing something that Hunk and Keith weren’t seeing, but Hunk played along, Keith staying at a distance. Hunk gave Keith the ‘_ we’ll talk later’ _look, indicating for him to come along with a nod of his head._

_Lance just kept going. “I told ‘em get a good dog. Miranda wants to get a Spaniel but obviously we need to get a big dog like a Redbone. We need a new dog. Roxy’s too old to get a coon now.”_

_Hunk played along, but Keith could already tell that Lance’s attention was starting to slip again. “Come on now Lance, you remember what kind of dog Roxy is?”_

_Lance plopped down onto the stairs, patting the space next to him. “Easy. Bluetick. She’s old as hell. You should come back with me for Christmas break and meet her. If she’s not dead yet.” He laughed._

_Hunk sat next to him, leaning in to catch Lance’s attention. “Lance. We can’t go on winter break. We’re in space.”_

_“Are you blind? We’re home! Well, um, I am.” He giggled. “You live down the street.”_

_Keith glowered. “More like the hallway.”_

_Lance gasped, smacking his own forehead. “Crap! We have an assignment due for Hendrik!”_

_Keith was ready to lose it. Lucky for them, Hunk was a bit more patient. “No Lance. We’re in space.”_

_“The assignment’s on space? Nevermind. All of our assignments are on space.”_

_Hunk sighed in exasperation, though he tried to hide it from Lance as best he could. Keith went to sit down on the other side of Lance. It was kind of a tight fit between Lance and the railing, so their shoulders brushed._

_Keith tried his hand. “Lance. We’re in space. In the Castle of Lions. Don’t you remember us getting shot into space in Blue?”_

_“Blue.” Lance’s face screwed up in concentration. “That a nickname for one of the Garrison test shuttles?”_

_“Blue is your Lion, bud.” Hunk said. “Your lion.”_

_“Lions.” He replied hazily. Keith could instantly tell that Lance was drifting again. He had that distant look in his eyes, and he looked out, but not at anything in particular._

_Hunk tried getting Lance’s attention again. “She’s one of the Voltron L-”_

_“Oh God, the_ lions _!” Lance suddenly interrupted, arms flailing wildly. He suddenly quieted. “That’s what I’ve been missing… all this time.”_

_His breath puffed in disbelief._

_He listed off to the side, and his head thumped down on Keith’s shoulder. Hunk shared a look with Keith – a mix of alarm and excitement. Lance was_ remembering _._

 _Lance took in a halting breath, slowly pulling away from Keith. His face bore a quivering smile, this time a real smile. “M-My lion… Blue! That’s what I keep forgetting! That blue is the colour of a lion –_ my _lion!”_

_Hunk came forward, hand going to Lance’s shoulder. “You remember Blue?”_

_“Well… yah… Oh quiznak, is she okay?!” Lance’s hands left Keith’s shoulders and he hesitantly moved to Hunk. He was so close to the two of them now. His eyes went wide with sudden panic. “When they took me, they hurt her so, so, so bad, Hunk! And I hurt her! I shut her out!”_

_“Hey, hey, buddy, she’s okay right now.” Hunk said reassuringly. “She’s in the hangar being fixed right now. It was just a little tricky finding a new cockpit for her, that’s all. But the Olkari have given us a hand.”_

_Lance managed a small nod in relief, blinking fast. He kept on swiveling his head, overwhelmed. He looked like he couldn’t decide what to focus on. Keith or Hunk? He finally settled for pulling them both close to his sides, so he could smell both the autumn and the cinnamon hearts._

_“That’s… that’s good.”_

* * *

 

Vlair offered to bring them out for drinks, but Shiro respectfully declined, using Pidge as an excuse. The only good thing that came out of the embarrassing experience for Pidge was being able to witness Shiro trying to explain the concept of legal drinking age to a confused Galra (Pidge wasn’t going to challenge him in front of Vlair on the fact that he argued age 21, but Pidge knew that he knew that she was Canadian).

It was all about being polite, but Pidge could tell, Shiro was exhausted. He normally was after his arm was serviced, and Pidge had a feeling that she could attribute it to the fact that his arm used more quintessence when it was open, in order to keep the dark-dwelling _thing_ inside alive.

So Pidge did the only sensible thing. She stuffed his butt on the skiff and carted him back to Yona Vel.

The skiff was pretty simple, the hull raised out of the water periodically as it chopped over waves, but Pidge had mastered steering by the crossbar. After learning to pilot a hundred metric ton robot lion, this was easy. Since she wasn’t coordinated enough to surf with Lance and Hunk, this was how she held her own in the water.

Yona Vel was only a hop and skip away from Yona Dekka, so after only a small half hour of traversing the waves, Pidge shored up the skiff. This time, however, she allowed Shiro to help _her_ out of the boat, since he insisted.

It was quiet between them as they made their way up to the villa, but the jungle itself held a near constant buzz. It either was a bird or some kind of cricket creature that would chitter from beyond the leaves.

One of the servants that had come with them from the ship was out in the garden on the slope outside of the main entrance, sifting through leaves and flowers in search of something. He gave a wave to the paladins when they passed, gracing them with a slight smile as well.

Somebody had drawn back all of the curtains, so the sun slanted in through the numerous windows directly into the circular courtyard. It lit up the pillars and column of stairs up with evening light, reflecting into all parts of the room, even down the hallways.

Pidge figured it would be best to bring Shiro back to his apartment so he could rest. After a short shuffle up the twisting stairs and across the flying bridge to the wing of the villa that held all of their apartments – the half that was partially sheltered by the Boan Ten. The hallways were quiet – not surprising, considering everything that was going on.

Normally, Allura would throw enormous parties at the villa, forcing aristocrats and ambassadors to travel to the island from Vesta Calda if they wanted to wine and dine with the Voltron Paladins and the Altean princess. In preparation, the building would be lively with servants and hired hands, all bustling and making noise, some singing while they worked. But now really wasn’t the time for parties, at least not on Yona Vel.

Allura and Coran were probably being ‘entertained’ by some ambassador trying to get a member of their species in a suit of blue paladin armour. Part of Pidge felt a little bad for abandoning them to the vultures, but the majority of her conscience knew that it was important that the Alteans stayed in the capital while the paladins handled things with Lance – the human way.

They finally reached Shiro’s apartments, and Pidge could tell in Shiro’s posture – the way that he purposefully tried to lean away from Pidge – that he definitely was getting tired. No matter how much he needed support, he would never admit it. He was a guy, and guys seemed to think that being reliant on others would strike a blow to their masculinity.

Somebody had been in to ready the rooms for him. The apartment was aired out, furniture had been uncovered, and the bed was made. Somebody had even gone through the trouble of filling the water pitcher on the table.

Pidge intended to gently slide Shiro from her support and onto the bed, but what actually happened was more akin to her dumping him on the white sheets. He grunted, but rolled with it, burrowing into the bed and burying his face in the fluffy pillows with a tired huff. He tiredly kicked off his boots, not even bothering to readjust his position. Pidge settled onto the mattress, further down – the bed was bigger than a weblum, so she was able to sprawl out and still not hit Shiro.

She yawned, stretching out. “We’re going to finish Blue’s repairs tomorrow. You should come and help now that your arm is operational again.”

Shiro twisted a little. “I don’t think I’d be much help. I’m no engineer.”

“How about the pleasure of your good company?” Pidge asked. She could see that Shiro was trying to get comfortable on the bed now, shifting his weight until he was on his side. “Do you want me to tuck you in or something?”

“Are you my mother now, Katie?”

“Oh, don’t use that on me!” Pidge grumbled, pushing herself upright and crawling over to Shiro’s spot on the bed. He was plainly smirking. She planted a half-hearted punch to his bicep. “You might pretend to be old and mature, but I know you better than that.”

“Funny, Keith said the same thing.” Shiro laughed, and Pidge hit his arm again, harder than before. “Really, I’m fine, Pidge. You don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I do.” Pidge tugged up the sheets from under the Black Paladin, then threw them over him despite his protests. “You’re so busy taking care of us; who’s going to take care of you?”

“I’m fine.”

Pidge threw herself down next to him on top of the sheets, puffing loose hairs out of her face. “Remember when you’d call every night and nerd out with Matt?”

“How could I forget that?”

“And you always went to bed at some atrociously early time?”

“Pidge. Eleven is not early.”

“Anyways, it was always to make sure your mom went to bed. I know because I tapped those calls.” Pidge shushed Shiro’s scandalized noise, with a backhand tap to his chest. “Point is: you mothered your _mother_. You take care of other people – it’s who you are. But Shiro, sometimes, you have to let others help. That includes me, Keith, Allura and Coran, Hunk, heck, even Lance, once he gets back!

“I know we’re a sucky family.” She sat up, looking directly into Shiro’s eyes. Pidge could feel the anger she felt in Vlair and Asrah’s home creep back up in her chest. “All of us are broken and messed up, and we really need to see space psychiatrists other than the mice, because we all suck at being honest about how broken and messed up we all are! And, oh, dammit, Shiro, I know you’re the Black Paladin and our leader and all that, but Voltron isn’t just the Black Lion. It’s all of us!

“And the fact that you hid the malfunction in your arm from Hunk and I? It’s just… infuriating!” Pidge made to get off the bed now, and Shiro made no move to stop her. “We could’ve slowed the deterioration of its system! We could’ve done _something_!”

He sighed. “I didn’t want any of you to worry about me. Lance… his wellbeing is far more important than my mechanical issues.”

Pidge was only just off the bed when she whipped around. “We _all_ matter, including you!” With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her, shutting out the sound of Shiro calling after her.

She threw herself against the railing, leaning over it in frustration. The view was spectacular, but the crystal clear skies and the brilliant water didn’t match her current mood. She hadn’t meant for that conversation to go south so quickly, but everything had just bubbled up inside of her – she couldn’t control it. Now Shiro was probably beating himself up, and Pidge herself felt terrible. _But I can’t go back in! Not yet_. She stood by her point, and taking it back wouldn’t help anyone.

She dragged her hands down her face with a groan, muttering to herself darkly.

It crossed her mind to just go and hide away in Green, but it was just then that two people came down the hallway, led by obvious sounds of struggle. Pidge’s head snapped to and she almost completely regretted it, but at the same time, it was amusing.

Hunk had Keith in a headlock, and was dragging him down the hallway. Keith was pushing at Hunk, but also looked sort of resigned to his fate. He hissed half-heartedly, baring his sharp canines, and Hunk patted him on the head. “There, there, Galra Keith.” Pidge watched them pass incredulously, and Hunk gave her a short wave. “We’re going to Allura’s parlor, want to come?”

“Just what I need.” Pidge fell into step beside Hunk, planting her hands at the base of her back and pressing back on them, cracking her vertebrae. She sighed.

They had made it to the bridge in the courtyard when Pidge side eyed Keith. “Care to explain?”

Hunk readjusted Keith in his headlock, much to the Red Paladin’s annoyance. “We were doing a mind meld and he dove right in when I told him to wait.”

Pidge did a double take. “You did _fucking what_?!” She screeched.

“A mind meld.” Keith supplied. “Of all the times I could actually manage to get into the mindscape easily, it had to be this time.”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe this.” Hunk cringed at the look on Pidge’s face. Obviously she was making quick assumptions in that head of hers, her eyes flashing like lightning behind her thick glasses.

“Same.” Keith said lazily, which Hunk rewarded with a glare.

“Keith, I swear to Quiznak.” Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She swung around on the bannister, trotting down the steps ahead of Hunk. “I seriously can’t believe this. You guys just went ahead and jumped into the meld like no big deal. What about my calculations? What if Keith’s quintessence looked like the boogeyman?”

Lord, she really was making assumptions. “Your program was fine. And he looked more-”

“Hunk.” They were at Allura’s parlor now, the thick wooden doors were unlocked, so Pidge pushed them open. “I thought we said –”

“I know, I know.” Hunk released Keith into the parlor, and Keith flailed a little to keep on his feet.

Keith brushed himself off. “You don’t think that I can be a rational being in the mindscape, and will set Lance off again.”

“Exactly that.” Pidge said flatly. “But since you’re still alive, I take it you didn’t mess up astronomically?”

“I did fine, thank you.” Keith said, throwing himself onto the lounger. He glowered at Pidge as she moved to the seat across from him, propping her feet on the table.

Hunk went behind the counter, searching for that one little button that Coran had shown him. _Only for special occasions and dire emergencies._ Coran had told him. Hunk figured it was the former. A few more moments of rifling, and he found it. The fridge door sighed open, and an impressive collection of bottles lay on the rack before him. Allura’s stash. He wasn’t too picky about what he pinched from the collection – a hundred years wouldn’t even get them close to tasting all the drinks the universe had to offer. He also took two glasses from the display.

He edged out, raising the two bottles he had taken. “I thought a little celebration was in order, actually. That’s why we were on our way down here.” Pidge looked absolutely dumbstruck. She might’ve fried a circuit. Hunk laughed. “You didn’t really let us get a word in edgewise on the way here.” He sat next to the Red Paladin, nudging a glass into Keith’s hand.

“So… what happened?” Pidge ventured. Her head was tilted left and slanted down to her shoulder– she always did that when she was pretending to be disinterested.

“He remembered. Well, he’s still pretty mixed up about when and where he is, but he remembers Blue.”

That made her drop the façade. She leaned forward in her chair, “So you’re telling me that Keith actually… helped?”

Keith huffed. “You say it like it’s a surprise.”

Hunk peeled the waxy seal off the top of the first bottle, but he kept his eyes on Pidge as he poured for both him and Keith. Pidge’s face had twisted a little. “It kind of is.”

“It was bound to happen at some point.” Keith said.

“I’m aware of that,” Pidge replied. “But, Hunk, pray tell: how did he convince you?”

“You could just ask me…” Keith snatched his glass towards him. The dark blue drink in it sloshed a little. Although he was holding it close, it looked like he was waiting for Hunk to taste test before braving it.

“He fell out of the Boan Ten face first. And letting him in the mind meld was my call – I figured Lance was ready, and I was right – as usual.” Hunk took a tentative sip of the drink, and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste. He took another, and was shortly followed by Keith, who made a surprised noise at the flavour.

Pidge grumbled to herself, reaching forward and taking the second bottle in hand. Hunk made a move to stop her, but she smacked his hand away. “Legal. Canadian.” Hunk desisted, sighing in resignation. “But yah, sure, you were right. Congrats.” She tore the cork out with her teeth, then took a swig of whatever was in the bottle. Apparently whatever was inside tasted fine, because Pidge didn’t pull any of her characteristic faces at it.

Hunk nudged Keith, “You heard that, right? She admitted that I was right.”

Keith laughed. “Momentous.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Pidge teased. She took another deep swig of her drink, and Hunk started to feel like he really should’ve checked the percentage. She swallowed, then checked the label for herself. A short shrug from her didn’t do much for Hunk’s confidence, but she settled it on the armrest next to her. “Now… what are we going to do?”

The three of them suddenly became incredibly interested in their drinks. Leave it to Pidge to cut right to the chase.

Hunk had no idea how long it was before he felt his own mouth move, barely a whisper over the rim of his glass. “Shiro goes in.”

The reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Are you _insane?_ ” Pidge squeaked. “We’ve been avoiding this!”

Hunk raised his empty hand to calm her, snapping out of whatever state he was in that possessed him to speak in the first place. “Hey, hey, cool it. Pidge, come on, we knew this was going to happen. We’ve been hiding this from Shiro long enough and we can’t keep stalling if we want to get Lance back with us.”

Keith stared down at his glass, brows drawn. “We know that. I know you guys were skeptical about me going in to see Lance, I get that, but I’m really not sure about Shiro. I mean, come on Hunk, _I’m_ unstable and irrational? But you’ll let Shiro in easy? He’s… well, he’s a mess right now.”

Pidge muttered something to herself before drinking more. After a steady swallow, Pidge’s eyes leveled with Hunk’s. “I’ll kick myself later for saying this about both of you in the course of three minutes, but Keith is right. Shiro’s a wreck.”

“Come on, Pidge!” Hunk sighed, exasperated. “Can’t you guys see that we _have_ to do this? We are so close to finishing repairs on Blue! Once she’s done, Black won’t be able to keep her in total shut down, and she’ll pull whatever the heck she did back in the hangar with Keith and Red.”

“Look,” Keith said. “I want Lance back just as much as you. I’m just worried this might not work out like you imagined. Everything else has gone well until now – what if it takes a bad turn? Heck, can we even trust that Shiro’s not gonna tattle on us to Allura or Eurelle?”

Pidge raised her hand like a meek schoolchild. “I’m afraid of all of those things. Mostly Eurelle. Have you seen those teeth?”

“Shiro won’t ‘tattle’ on us!” Hunk said. He could feel his grip on his glass getting tighter. What could he say that would possibly convince his two most stubborn teammates that having a little faith in their leader was a good idea? “Maybe you two have forgotten, but we’re fighting a war: a war that we need Voltron to win. In order to form Voltron, we need all five of the Lions. The only person that can possibly pilot the Blue Lion without getting their brain turned inside out is Lance. We’ve been successful so far in getting him to remember _some_ things and recognise us, his best friends, but there is one friend that he hasn’t seen yet, and that’s Shiro! I am positive that when Lance sees Shiro, he’s going to come back even more!”

“So what, he’ll see him and pop out of his coma?” Pidge scrunched up her face.

“Well, not ‘pop’, but maybe then he’ll be at peace or something and decide to come back since he knows it’s safe.”

Pidge’s gears were working, and Keith had that face on that he wore when he was thinking hard, and the silence was finally broken when Keith lifted his glass up. “For Lance.”

Pidge sighed in resignation, then lifted her drink as well. “ _Only_ because you were right about Keith.”

Hunk grinned, raising up his glass to meet Keith and Pidge’s. “Clink.”


	9. We're Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone takes a not so peaceful lunch break, Shiro is let into the club of secret secrets, and Lance doesn't like his own reflection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This one's been a really long time coming, but hopefully my next chapter (or chapters? idk as of this moment) will have a better update time. I was in a drama production, so with Tech Week and performances kicking me in the ass, I didn't have much time to write, but now I have no life and plenty of free time.

Shiro came late to the hangar. He had paced back and forth in his apartment, trying to come up with a proper apology to Pidge and Hunk. One was in order. Of course he knew he was wrong, but at the time, the team had so much more on their minds with Lance’s condition, he hadn’t wanted to burden them further. That, and the fact that during their time on the ship after the rescue, Pidge was all over the place, and Hunk was scarce to be found. Shiro didn’t complain, so he wouldn’t actively seek them out with the intent of complaining when he knew they couldn’t do anything significant with the Galra tech.

But he couldn’t face them without a proper apology, and so he found himself further hashing out what he would say on his way down the corridor. He almost didn’t notice the chubby bird that took up stubborn residence at the top of the stairs that morning. It squawked at him, and he gingerly shooed it away with his foot, edging past it down to the lower levels of the villa. In the back of his mind something screamed ‘Potoo’, but he pushed the thought aside.

There was no access pad for the door to the hangar – it had been pried off when they refitted the villa. Now the door was wide open, and the first thing he saw when he reached the bottom of the access stairwell was Blue. She was still in shutdown, but it seemed that Black wasn’t taking any chances as the repairs were getting further along. She now loomed over Blue, laying nose to nose with her, golden eyes glowing softly as she concentrated her own energy in an effort to suppress Blue.

Shiro could feel Black’s concentration – Blue was beginning to push back a little – he could feel the pressure on the link between himself and his lion as Blue pressed on them mentally, testing how far she could go before Black shoved her back.

It was a sure sign that she was ready to try and help Lance again. That meant Eurelle and Ti Reen would really have to crunch down to start figuring out how to wake Lance up.

As Shiro stood in the doorway to the hangar in the early afternoon, his practiced apology ran away from him, dancing out of reach. Anxiety pinched at his chest, but he scrunched it up and shoved it down somewhere deep where it couldn’t do anything – or at least he tried. It settled in his stomach and twisted uncomfortably.

He took a deep breath.

Hunk was sprawled on his back, chatting with Pidge and flicking through the electronic instruction manual. Keith was lounging against Blue’s ear, head tilted back and lidded in some form of an afternoon catnap. Pidge was making a racket – even if Shiro couldn’t see her, he could very well hear her clanking away in Blue’s new cockpit. The crane was no longer looming over the lion’s head, so most likely she was working on smaller things on the inside.

The scaffolding that ran up Blue’s shoulder was the only way to climb up the lion, since her jaw was clamped shut, so Shiro’s ascent was quiet and anxious.  He hadn’t caught anyone’s attention until he started his trapeze across Blue’s neck, and Keith’s left eye cracked open, side-eyeing him, then snapped shut again. Shiro climbed up onto Blue’s head, settling between Keith and Hunk. The Yellow Paladin briefly acknowledged him with a small pinkie wave, as his hands were full of the tablet manual, and he was relaying the instructions to Pidge.

“… and attach the pink relay line between the two main Frastel components. That’ll enable her holodisplays completely.”

“The what now?” Pidge popped up through the hatch, goggles magnifying her eyes like a bug. She caught sight of Shiro, and her mouth pursed for a fraction of a second, but then she disappeared into the manual. “Hey, Takashi.”

Shiro was stunned, but he managed to stutter out a quiet ‘hey’ in return. He was feeling like a student again, when he would visit the Holts and a little Katie would shoot him venomous glares at the dinner table simply because her brother wouldn’t pay attention to her with Shiro was around. Hunk glanced at him, then went back to the manual.

“I said the two main Frastel components. There’s five sets, and the biggest ones are the main pink ones. Here.” He pointed.

“Freaking ridiculous.” Pidge snatched the entire manual from him and pulled it down into the cockpit with her. Although Shiro couldn’t see her, he could hear her as she muttered over it indistinctly.

A few sparking sounds and a loud shriek later, Shiro pretty much vaulted into the cockpit. Pidge had been knocked back onto her rear, hair puffed out in all directions, restricted only by the strap from her goggles.

“Pidge, are you alright?” He stooped down to help her, picking her up by the armpits and putting her into the pilot’s seat.

“I – um…” Pidge ran a self-assessment, patting herself down. “One piece. I’m good. Think that was a bit of a _shock_.” She caught herself, disgust crawling over her face. “Oh my God, I’m starting to make puns. We need Lance back before this becomes permanent.”

Hunk chuffed.

She picked up the manual, which looked like it made it through the shocking experience relatively unscathed. A few patches on the holographic screen were skitzing, but otherwise it looked fine. Pidge patted down a smoldering patch of hair and was already tinkering around in the control box under the panel, muttering to herself, face only inches away from her work.

No wonder she had been electrocuted.

Shiro sat down next to her. Even though her eyes were glued to her work, he could tell that she was keeping a tab on him. “Look… Pidge. I’m sorry, about not going to you or Hunk about my arm.” She made a small sniffing sound, Shiro sighed. “I can make it up to you.”

“ _How_?” She growled, leaning in closer to the wiring.

Shiro was tempted to just pull her hair back out of the way, but that was dangerous at the moment. “I – I don’t know.”

Hunk dropped in his two cents, leaning backwards into the cockpit through the open panel. “I’m sure that Pidge will figure out how _soon_.”

Pidge took another dangerously close in look at the panel, and Shiro nearly had a heart attack. He got a hold of himself first before gently pulling her back by the shoulder. “You know, Blue might be shut down but she’s still awake.”

“She what now?”

Shiro suddenly felt sheepish. He probably should’ve told them before about that, too. Black was the only one in contact with Blue’s quintessence, but he had somewhat hoped that she would’ve at least told the other lions. “Blue is in shutdown, but her quintessence is still hanging around on her hardware. She’s been pushing back at Black recently, so there might be some unwarranted power surges, which would be dangerous while you’re repairing her.”

“Well, geez, I wish I had been told that.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, that was for Green.” Pidge chuckled. Shiro felt quite embarrassed all over again. He should’ve remembered that Pidge hadn’t really gotten down the whole ‘concentrated thought’ thing yet. Her train of thought just whizzed all over the place, going a billion ways at once and Green had difficulty giving a coherent answer because she tried to answer all of Pidge’s questions in one giant ‘ZIP file’ (Pidge’s words, not his). They usually avoided it because receiving the ‘ZIP file’ used to knock Pidge out cold.

Green rumbled on the other side of the hangar, and Pidge hummed in unison with her.

“Apparently she had no clue. I guess Black just isn’t feeling chatty towards the other Lions…” She zoned out for a moment.

Hunk filled in, scowling in confusion. “Ya, nothing from Yellow either.”

Pidge scrunched up her face and listened to Green again. “Green says that Black’s actually managed to isolate Blue’s quintessence completely – that’s messed up. But I mean-” Pidge wrenched down unexpectedly on the panel cover, she grunted, slamming it closed. “- I can see why.”

“What?” Shiro’s brows drew together. “What do you mean, Pidge?”

Pidge drew back, her work done with the panel. She tilted her head back to rest on the seat. “It’s probably obvious, but it was right after Blue’s quintessence flipped out and snapped Keith and Red apart that she tried physically getting to Lance. She was probably in contact with him though their quintessence beforehand, right?” Shiro agreed quietly, so Pidge continued. “Black is probably taking this shutdown seriously. The communication with Lance just made Blue’s own damage even _worse_ , especially after that stunt she pulled while being hooked up to the walls and cables. Black is doing what she thinks will keep _Blue_ safe, but I don’t know how much longer she can.”

“Because Blue’s pushing at her.” Hunk said. “Keep in mind, though, Blue is no serious match for Black when it comes to a battle of will, or even quintessence.”

“But Black doesn’t want to hurt Blue.” Shiro said.

“Exactly.” Pidge confirmed.

Keith crawled over to meet them, leaning heavily on his arms as he peered into Blue’s cockpit. “But you guys fixed Blue. Won’t that make her stronger?”

“Well, yes, but no.” Hunk said.

Pidge butted in. “She’s mostly in order, but there’s one keystone part we decided not to connect yet. That will keep her from going anywhere. All we need now is Lance, and then she can go back online.”

“About damn time.” Keith huffed.

“Celebration! Drinks all ‘round!” Pidge said, raising her arms wearily.

Shiro immediately shot down Pidge’s declaration. He hoped to all his ancestors that they could resume some kind of normalcy in their relationship, with him getting off easy with some menial chore to make it up to Pidge.

Instead of inviting back that conversation, Shiro suggested that they find their way to the kitchen and get some real lunch.

There was a vast array of food that had been stocked in the kitchen. The servants must have gone to Yona Dekka to buy supplies. The cold storage was bursting with food that was grown on Pol Alare’s living moon, Bel Alon, and stuff that was oddly similar to cheese. It was enough to make Shiro’s mouth water. After being out looking for Lance for months in enemy territory with nothing but rations (and to be honest, his fare for the Kerberos mission and his time as a slave was nothing to brag about either), this was heaven on Pol Alare.

Pidge made a mad dash for the meat storage, returning quickly with a smoked sausage hanging from the corner of her mouth like a mob boss’s cigar, and various other snack foods in her arms. She spilled her loot on the table, then dropped into her chair. “Mine,” she growled, spotting Keith’s hungry stare. “Get your own.”

Keith sat kitty-corner to her defiantly, beside Shiro, and neither of them made a move towards her food. Hunk had them covered with a proper array of food.

Pidge stuffed her face like a beast, obviously enjoying her lunch/snack a little too much. Hunk came out of the pantry with a plate full of pastries that were filled with some kind of jam, then placed it on the table, far enough away from Pidge, but just close enough that Shiro and Keith could still take their shares. Keith tore into his, quite liking the overly sweet jam, but he ashamedly slowed when he saw Hunk and Shiro only nibble at theirs.

Pidge, ever the graceful creature, spoke right through her mouthful, the sausage bobbing up and down from how she held it between her teeth. “So I’m gonna be the bearer of obvious news here.” They all snapped to attention. She swallowed loudly, then sighed. “Now that Blue is up and rearing to go, and we’re finally all together with no one else around, we need to talk.”

“About what?” Shiro asked.

“Well, Shay told us at the welcome that politicians were basically lining up to throw their candidates in Blue’s cockpit and lick Allura’s boots while doing it.”

Keith scoffed. “Apparently they’ve never heard of Cortexal Rupture.”

“I know, right?!” Pidge took another bite of fruit from her pile. “Unfortunately, while it would be fun to watch them try, it would be bad for PR.”

“Incredibly.” Hunk said, a short laugh escaping him.

“And…” Pidge paused for dramatic effect. “We all know that Lance can’t stay in that healing pod forever.”

They did all know that.

Shiro remembered back during their first year of being out in space, when Keith, Hunk, and Lance had ganged up on Pidge and tried to force her to sleep by stuffing her in a med pod. Coran had come in hollering and shut it down before it completely locked Pidge in. He had scolded them, informing them that prolonged exposure to the healing mists of the pods, while being perfectly healthy, was risky, considering they didn’t know the long term effects on humans quite yet. Lance had a pass now because he was holding himself down in a coma, but he was completely physically healed besides that.

Shiro had checked on him late last night (or rather, early morning), when the others had all gone to sleep. But Lance didn’t look like Lance. He hadn’t moved at all, and looked strangely pale. The lines of scar tissue that were remnants of his wounds took on a silvery hue in the white-blue light – those scars didn’t belong on Lance. And he looked so brittle that Shiro feared that if something were to so much as brush Lance’s skin, he would break.

Shiro’s hand was balled up against his temple, and his brow was drawn in heavily. “But what can we possibly do about that?” He sighed. “We all saw him. How do we even _begin_ to approach that?”

“Well, actually…” Hunk shifted, becoming suddenly very interested in his hands. He, Keith and Pidge were so uncomfortable Shiro could feel their nervous energy just rolling over the table. “See, we can. Approach it, I mean.”

“How do you know?” Shiro looked up.

“Um…” Pidge grimaced.

Hunk stepped in. “Shiro, we have a confession to make. The three of us.” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together over the table tightly. “We’ve been in contact with Lance through the mind meld.”

Shiro was absolutely dumbfounded. The Black Paladin’s eyes were wide, his entire body rigid. His face blanched. “You _what_?”

Keith leaned forward onto his arms. “You didn’t actually expect us to sit around and do nothing, did you?” Shiro’s expression slowly darkened, and Keith drew back. “Did you?”

“We all knew that something had to be done at some point, but using the mind meld after what happened? Eurelle was against it from the start. Allura _demanded_ that we leave him be. Do any of you have _any_ respect for that?”

“Since when have we trusted Allura to make decisions about our human wellbeing?” Pidge snorted.

“Of _course_ we do.” Hunk defended, cutting through Pidge’s snark. “But he’s our friend. We weren’t just going to stand by and let him stay in the med pod until he actually fixes himself. Because then we’d be waiting forever.”

Keith interjected, “And he’s gotten better! He can form real sentences now – he’s starting to make sense – he even recognises us now!”

“ _He_ – what?”

All of the food sat forgotten on the table now.

“Recognises us.” Pidge said cautiously. “He’s not scared anymore. And most of the time he can keep hold on a conversation. And he remembers bits and pieces. And Blue.”

“ _How?_ ”

Shiro could’ve sworn he heard Hunk mutter something about anime under his breath, but he didn’t quite catch it. Pidge took the opportunity to explain. “Using the headsets and some code that I bootlegged from the castle’s systems I was able to modify the code of the neural headsets to pick up quintessence in raw form from us and translate our forms differently into Lance’s mindscape. Simply put, he sees our ‘true’ selves, as the quintessence that the castle and the Lions see.”

Keith sighed. “As translation, Lance remembers us through our personalities, then fills in the blanks after that, so he’s coming back slowly.”

After what seemed like the longest five seconds of their lives, Shiro spoke. “I don’t think – I can’t…” He paused, breathing deeply. “You three should have thought this through far more carefully than you’re making it sound.”

“We’ve been so careful, though!” Hunk said.

“You could’ve made him worse. How do you know you’re actually helping?”

“We took a whole bunch of precautions!” Pidge said.

“We have no idea what he went through.” Shiro bit out. “What it could still be doing to him!” Keith could see his hand clenched under the table.

 Keith growled. “He _has_ gotten better, Shiro. You have to believe us!”

“I’m trying!” Shiro snapped. He shoved himself out of his chair and into a stand. His hands were braced behind his neck, and he paced with his back to the others. “I just… is this why you three were so eager to come to Yona Vel? We abandoned Allura and Coran to their feet so you three could mess around in Lance’s head?!” The three of them cast down their eyes to the abandoned food on the table.

“We weren’t _messing around_!” Pidge replied vehemently, eyes locked on her hands.

“Come on, Shiro, just listen to us!” Keith pleaded.

Shiro was about to bite back, but he was caught off guard when Hunk spoke. He was so quiet. “He needs _you_ , Shiro.” His brows were furrowed deeply, Hunk’s eyes were always so gentle, so kind, and now they were tearing from frustration in the corners. Shiro’s breath caught, and came out ragged. Hunk swallowed. “Please. I – _we_ don’t want to fight with you. We just want Lance to come home.”

_What the Hell were you expecting, Takashi? We’re still just the bunch of kids we were all those years ago. An absolute mess._ Shiro turned away again, arms tucked in.

“Shiro…” Pidge toed in. “Remember how you said you were making it up to me from before? Well, I hate to use a favour up so fast… but we need your help. Lance needs your help.”

There was a heavy pause, one that Shiro just froze the way he was and had nothing running through his head – it was just blank. The only thing he was thinking was that he had to react. He didn’t know how long he was out of it, the others looking to him expectantly.

“I want to help.”

The tension that fell from the trio’s shoulders was immense. Pidge physically turned into a puddle over the tabletop, groaning, and Hunk and Keith had expressions of incredulous relief on their faces. They were beginning to sag down with Pidge, until Hunk snapped up suddenly and skirted around the table faster than Shiro thought he was capable of.

“We can go now!” He grasped Shiro by the wrist, leading him quickly from the kitchen. Shiro was spun about, and staggered into following Hunk. Pidge and Keith were right on their tails, shoving out from their chairs and completely abandoning the food.

“Right now?” Shiro asked, nearly tripping on the threshold saddle.

“Well, ya.” Pidge said, trotting beside him. “Technically time is an illusion in the mindscape, and even more unreliable in Lance’s… bla blah blah, right? So it doesn’t really matter when we show up there.”

“I suppose.”

They spent the rest of the way giving Shiro a rough rundown of things he had to remember (the beeper will go off six hours after you immerse), things he had to be certain to look out for (There might be a house? There might not be?), and what they needed him to do (just get him to remember you and not make him freak out). In order to get back up to the apartment wing, they had to edge around the weird potoo-looking bird that squatted smugly at the top of the bannister. Pidge squawked back at it, shooing it away when it ruffled its wings.

They finally reached Hunk’s apartment, and Pidge threw herself face first onto the bed, making a muffled noise into the mattress. Keith plopped down next to her as well, shuffling further back to the centre to lean back on his elbows. He muttered something to her that Shiro didn’t quite catch, but Pidge was shaking her head, though she didn’t raise her face from the fluffy sheets.

Hunk himself made a beeline for the lounge table, where the mind meld headsets were all piled together. With a little shake he detangled one from the others, muttering. Shiro felt a little tight in the chest. He was to go alone? This was happening too fast. He couldn’t really remember what they told him in their rush through the villa. What if Lance didn’t recognise him? What if he didn’t want him there, and would rather have one of the others? What if- “Hey, Shiro, you ready?” Hunk head out a headset towards Shiro, a look of concern etched into his face.

“Yah.” Shiro cleared his throat. “Of course.” He took the headset gingerly, keenly aware of the fact that the other three were intently watching him. He held it close to his chest for a moment, then looked up, trying to mask his nervousness. “Won’t any of you be coming with?”

Pidge shoved herself up next to Keith, studying Shiro. She could probably see that Shiro was anxious about the whole ordeal. “It’s best if you go alone. He’ll get distracted by one of us otherwise, and won’t progress with you.”

Shiro paused for a moment, but accepted. “Alright.” Hunk pulled out a chair from the table, and Shiro sat, slowly, deliberately. The timer was set, and he placed the headset on carefully. Shiro closed his eyes.

* * *

 

_Shiro immediately felt disoriented when he found himself on a front porch._

_A short assessment showed that he was all in one piece, and that he was, indeed, standing on the front porch of a blue clapboard house. The porch swing creaked as it swayed in the non-existent wind, and the unlatched screen door lazily swung on its hinges. The door behind it was open, so the swinging screen left the entrance completely open. An enormous bay window sat to Shiro’s left, beside the porch, hanging over the hydrangeas in the garden. Shiro could see a living room of sorts inside. There was grass all around the house, and beyond that, a sidewalk and a street with no curb. Everything else was lost to a pink and blue haze, like the borders of a child’s drawing._

_The screen door yawned open in the breeze again, leaving a straight shot into the house. Shiro took hold of its frame, taking a deep breath before he took a step over the threshold. He felt like he was intruding on something private, but the house was completely empty. Lights were on, and the window AC unit was running in the kitchen window to his right, and the cuckoo clock in the hall was ticking smartly, but no people._

_No Lance._

_Shiro considered calling out, but there was something about breaking the silence of the home that made him nervous._

Come on, Takashi, pull yourself together.

_He continued down the hall, passing the open way into the living room that was visible through the front window. There were Lego pieces scattered over the carpet, and one of those road mats with Hot Wheels cars pushed together in the center in an enormous pileup, along with some poor looking horse toys._

_This was a family home, definitely._ Is it Lance’s home? _Shiro passed the entryway, eyes lingering, until he came upon the hallway stairwell. All up the wall were family pictures. There were so many. One with Lance being smothered by a pile of young children, and another that included Hunk and some other kids in camp gear. There was also one that featured Lance and a girl wearing a white sundress - they were so alike they might have well have been twins. There were lots of school pictures and group photos, all squished together on the wall, mismatched frames touching._

_Shiro spent quite a while lingering on the stairs, scanning every picture. He knew he should be moving along, but some enrapturing quality kept him hostage. Shiro hadn’t grown up in a home with many photos. His mother’s parents had disowned her when she ran off with Shiro’s father to America, and the same man left her shortly after. The only pictures they had were on his mother’s phone, or the ones in the album on the shelf._

_“Do you know who they are?” The voice startled Shiro out of his reverie, making him fumble backwards onto the bannister in surprise._

_There was Lance, sitting at the top of the stairs, hunched over so he could see some more of the pictures that were farther away from him. “I had forgotten them. But I remember now, mostly.” He paused. “Who are you?”_

_It took a moment for Shiro to register everything that was happening before he could respond. “I’m Shiro.”_

_“Okay.” Lance readily accepted the explanation. Shiro looked over the Blue Paladin. He was covered in baggy clothes and he looked like he had just showered, his wet hair stuck out in all directions, like he had rubbed it with a towel and forgot to smooth it down. He looked so different now, compared to how ragged and dirty he was the last time Shiro had seen him. So much more trusting. Calmer. Coherent. Lance looked back to the pictures on the wall. “And who are they? The real Shiro should know.”_

_“I believe they’re your family.” Shiro replied. “You’ve told me about them before.” Shiro looked for a picture, finally settling on the one that was of Lance and his lookalike in the white sundress. “You were right when you said she was pretty much your twin… Miranda, she’s your sister, right?”_

_“Miranda? Yes. Yes she is. And Tammie and Mia.” Lance nodded._

_Lance slid down the stairs, gently tracing the edges of the frames as he passed them. He whispered as he went – Shiro couldn’t hear completely, Lance was so deathly quiet, but he knew they were names, because Lance’s eyes would flicker to a new individual in each picture every time he started his whispers again._

_“I know all of them.” Lance said. He was close to Shiro now, so close that their shoulders nearly brushed. His fingers rested on an old school photo – one of himself. He was young, perhaps 6 or 7, with a giant gap tooth grin. “I remember everyone. Except one.” Shiro’s chest tightened._ Who did he forget? _Suddenly Lance’s hand shot down and grabbed Shiro’s wrist. “I’ll show you. Maybe you’ll know.” Shiro allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs, up into the shared hallway around the landing that featured many doors, most likely leading to bedrooms._

_Lance swung around the bannister post towards the end of the hallway, holding onto Shiro’s wrist all the while. “In here.”_

_Shiro was led into a bedroom that looked much like he’d expect from Lance’s room: decorations covering every inch of the walls, NASA, varsity flags, and some posters that looked like they were stolen from movie theatres. There was a cluttered desk crammed in beside the bed, and when Shiro looked up, he saw more posters plastered onto the sloped ceiling. Lance flattened out the closet door on its rollers, revealing the full length mirror that was attached to one of the panels._

_Lance stood squarely in front of it, and tugged on Shiro’s wrist to show him. “Right here. Him. This picture.”_

_Shiro’s heart fell. There was no one in the mirror but Lance._

_“Lance, it’s a mirror. Can’t you see?”_

_The Blue Paladin got closer to the mirror, squinting. “I see him… but who is he?”_

_“Lance… that’s_ you _.”_

_“My pictures are downstairs.”_

_“Those are what you used to look like. This is you now. It’s a reflection, Lance.”_

_Lance hesitated for a moment, brows furrowing. “I look way better than him.” He said with conviction._

Nice, Takashi. Well, you dug your hole, time to find your way out of it. _Shiro fumbled with a reply. “Lance. This is you. See how the reflection follows your movements?”_

_Lance shifted uncomfortably, looking to Shiro then back at the mirror. “It doesn’t move. It’s a picture, Shiro. You seeing the same thing I’m seeing, here?”_

Apparently not. _Shiro twisted his twist, so that he was holding Lance’s hand from the back. He was met with Lance jerking his arm away, and Shiro backed off like he was dealing with a startled animal. “May I?” He asked. Lance paused for a moment, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Very slowly, he nodded._

_Shiro ever so slowly guided Lance’s hand upwards towards the Blue Paladin’s face. Lance twitched when his own fingers met his jaw, then eased a little as they traveled up his cheek. Lance swallowed thickly when he traced over the scar that traveled up his jaw onto his cheekbone – white and slightly raised, courtesy of flying shrapnel on the storm planet, Valte, that had pierced through his visor._

_“The picture has it too.” Lance stated slowly. His hand reached up farther, feeling the spot in his eyebrow that was split by a scar as well. He squinted as his fingers brushed over the marks on his face. “But that… it can’t be me.”_

_“Lance, when I first saw myself in the mirror after returning to Earth, I couldn’t believe it was me either.” Shiro carefully watched for Lance’s reaction, trying to gauge whether or not to continue, but Lance’s eyes were still glued incredulously to the image he was seeing in the mirror. “I couldn’t believe that this was what they had done to me, and that I couldn’t remember any of it.”_

_The Blue Paladin’s head shifted, his eyes meeting Shiro’s for a tick before drifting down to the floor uncomfortably. “They messed both of us up pretty bad, huh?”_

_“Yah.” Shiro replied quietly._

_Lance stood silently. His chin tilted up for a moment, like he was trying to get a better vantage point on the image he was seeing in the mirror, but he slowly lowered it, swallowing thickly. “Can everyone see it?” His voice was tight, and it made Shiro’s throat catch too._

_Shiro took a moment before replying, but conceded. “Yes.”_

_Lance released Shiro’s hand like it had burned him._

_“We all have scars, Lance.” Shiro reassured. Lance broke away from the mirror, shuffling towards the bed. He used the post as support, back turned to the rest of the room. Shiro sighed. “Some of us more than others.”_

_“No. I mean… everyone can see what I am? What-” he struggled for a moment “-Haggar did to_ Lance _, and not just my body?” He released a shuddering sigh, turning to drop down on the bed. He drew his knees up to his chest, his arms encircling his legs to hold them tight. “If I go back, will they want me, knowing that I’m like_ this _? Will Blue even want me?”_

_It suddenly dawned on Shiro: no one could ever come out of Galra captivity with only physical scarring. Now that Lance was close to being sane again, he was now also self-conscious about the fact that his mind wasn’t quite in the same place as it once was._

_And he was ashamed._

_And he was scared._

_Shiro had no idea what he was thinking when he crossed the room and sat right next to Lance on the bed. The mattress dipped low under the addition, and the frame creaked a little. Lance avoided eye contact; instead he stared at the trim by the door._

_“You know, sometimes it’s okay to not be okay.”_

_Lance sniffed, accompanied by a shaky laugh. “What movie is that from?”_

_Shiro laughed quietly too. “It doesn’t matter where it’s from because it’s true. I think something we’ve failed at as a team, for as long as we’ve_ been _a team, is at admitting to being hurt, or afraid, or not being okay.” Shiro saw for a brief moment Lance’s eyes flickering upwards, then back down. “I think it’s something we all have done, and are still doing.” Shiro leaned in slightly. “But we can change that. Every time there’s something wrong, we’ll say something.”_

_The declaration was left hanging in the air for what seemed like forever. Just as Shiro was going to add to it, just to make it less awkward, Lance laughed softly._

_“That includes you?”_

_Shiro was surprised at first, but that surprise melted into a smile. “Yes. Including me.” He caught Lance’s eye. “And as for Blue; she wouldn’t trade you for anything. She misses you like crazy. Actually, she’s been a bit of a nuisance about it.”_

_“That’s my girl.” Lance returned the smile, but Shiro could still see the underlying sadness in the red rims. He rubbed his cheek with the heel of his palm, and leaned against the Black Paladin. “I like your idea – I want to get better with everybody.”_

_“So you’ll come back to us?”_

_“I think so.”_

_The silence that followed wasn’t awkward at all. It felt comfortable, and Shiro didn’t mind it._

_Maybe, just maybe, they really could all be okay._

_Together._

* * *

 

“We should’ve gone in with him.” Hunk fretted. “What if something goes wrong? What if Lance doesn’t remember Shiro?”

“Hunk, cool it.” Pidge said. “Shiro will be fine. He still has ten minutes left on the timer.”

“It’s dark out and I’m hungry.” Keith complained.

“Ten more minutes!” Pidge repeated. Both of the men groaned in complaint, and she silenced them with a sharp hiss.

Shiro was sitting ramrod straight in the chair he had sat down in almost six hours ago. He had his usual meditating face on – serene, with eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man. She watched for a few more minutes, until she was actually starting to get nervous, and saw Shiro’s eyes flicker open.

She jumped up. “Shiro! How’d it go?!”

Suddenly the three of them were _very_ up close in Shiro’s space, asking rapid-fire questions, and he had to ward them off with a forearm. “He’s doing great. We talked. Now come on.” He stood up, taking off the headset and placing it on the chair seat before taking Pidge by the wrist and dragging her towards the door. She stumbled at first, but gained her feet, mostly by using Hunk as a stabilizer.

“What happened?!” Keith demanded, following close behind as Shiro burst into the hallway.

“I think Lance is going to try to wake up!”

Hunk sputtered in shock. “It worked?”

“Of course it did! We’re geniuses!” Pidge crowed, pumping her free fist in the air.

They made it to the Physician’s Hall in record time, it seemed, but they were all out of breath. They all but skidded through the door, and were met by a shocked Ti Reen.

The assistant stood frozen where he stood, dinner plate eyes wide open at the strange site of four disheveled Paladins sliding into the hall. Their mouth was pressed into a thin line of uncertainty. _You’re all too excited for night._ They paused their signing, and cocked their head. _Were you in the alcohol again?_

“No!” Pidge said. “Just… um…”

“Lance. Gonna see him.” Shiro jumped in. He took Pidge by the shoulders and basically carried her around Ti Reen. Hunk and Keith followed on foot (the lucky buggers), and as soon as they were out of eyesight of the confused assistant, they bolted down the hall once more.

All of the medical pods were situated at the end of the Physician’s Hall, as the beds were closer to the front for easier access. The gauzy curtains caught the air as they rushed past the beds, billowing behind them. Thankfully all the beds were empty.

Lance’s pod was connected to the port in the left half of the semicircle of medical pods, slightly sunk into the floor for easier access.

The Paladin looked worse than the last time Pidge checked on his body. No matter how it sat, the loose tank top that covered his torso made him look like a child, too small for his clothes.

Keith and Shiro leaned over the med pod, trying to see if there were any changes, and Hunk and Pidge pulled up the reading screens.

Pidge scowled at the screens.  “This makes no sense, Shiro. These say that there haven’t been any changes.”

“Nothing’s happening.” Hunk said.

Keith looked up. “Maybe you’re misreading something?”

“I speak and read fluently in the Universal Standard. I wish I was, but there’s no way I’m reading this wrong.”

“Check again.” Shiro said, frustration clear.

“Same thing over here, guys.” Pidge sighed.

“You all chose an interesting time to visit.” The voice startled the four of them, making them all look up from whatever they were doing. Eurelle stood at the entrance to the med pod area, tugging a curtain back into its place.

“Oh hey, Eu.” Pidge greeted. “We were just… uh… checking on Lance.”

“I can see that.” She walked up the dais. “Now, what do _you_ see?”

“Nothing.”

Eurelle tapped a device strapped to her wrist. An alert of sorts. “I know.” She stood close to Pidge. “I know it’s difficult, seeing Paladin Lance like this.”

“Yah.” Hunk said. “Yah it is.”

_She has no idea how much this hurts_. Pidge thought. _We thought we finally had him back._

“If you all want to spend time here, I understand.” Eurelle said. “I can have Ti Reen bring some bedding over for you all.”

“That would be wonderful, Eurelle. Thank you.” Shiro said.

* * *

 

Later, when they all lay around Lance’s pod, Pidge couldn’t sleep. It was probably just in her nature, but she couldn’t help but keep looking at Shiro, whose head was by hers.

“Psst. Shiro? You awake?”

He shifted. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Being a big jerk to you. I didn’t apologize properly.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Also… um… I’m scared. For Lance.” Pidge curled in tighter with her blanket.

“I know it’s a crappy situation right now, but believe me, Pidge, it’s going to get better.”

“But he didn’t wake up. He was supposed to wake up after seeing you. I don’t know, it’s just… discouraging.”

“Hey. It’s going to be alright. He said he’d try to come back. Maybe he’s just not ready. Right?”

“Yah, you’re probably right.”

“Goodnight, Pidge.”

“Goodnight Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on, my children. Lance is coming home soon :,)


	10. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue comes back, Lance talks, and the pod opens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, this final chapter has been a very long time coming. Apparently having no life outside of the drama production puts my motivation through the grinder. However, that just means more whump for you guys :)  
> Enjoy!  
> Some songs that I listened to while writing this chapter are in these links below:  
> [Spiegel im Spiegel by Arvo Pärt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ6Mzvh3XCc)  
> [Sorry by Halsey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ky6HfTioqY)  
> [ You are my Sunshine by Jasmine Thompson](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cBzMSPYKas)  
> Along with this [this inspirational video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9O0GYTA_cTU)

It was peaceful that morning, and Hunk was almost fooled into thinking that he was waking up in his own apartment. The soft breeze from the bay rode into the room, and the airy sheet tucked over him was extremely comfortable.  But what tipped him off was the hard feeling of the floor underneath of them, and what made his eyes snap open was the godawful sound of Pidge cracking her back.

“Christ, Pidge, did you break anything while doing that?” Hunk grumbled. He flinched when she cracked her ankles.

“Nah. I’m good.”

Hunk waited for Shiro to step in and start mothering Pidge, but it didn’t come. Hunk raised his head, scooting around Lance’s med pod to look, but – “Where’s Shiro?”

Pidge frowned, looking at the neatly folded blanket where Shiro had been the night before. “Would you look at that.”

“He should start a disappearance act.” Keith sat up, rubbing his eyes. “He’s very good at it.”

Pidge hissed, and Hunk groaned. _Galra Keith’s jokes are gonna kill us._

Hunk looked around. “In all seriousness, though, where the heck is he?”

* * *

  _Systems Online._

_Initiating startup._

_Awaiting permission to continue AI startup protocol._

_Stop._

_Permission denied._

_Awaiting permission to continue AI startup protocol._

_Stop._

_Force shut down by external entity._

_Systems Going Offline._

* * *

 Finding Shiro was difficult. Since the villa didn’t have the same internal tracking abilities that the Castle of Lions had, they had to search for him the old fashioned way. They considered checking in the kitchen again, but decided against it, as while they were exiting the Physician’s Hall, they ran into Ti Reen once again.

 _Restful sleep?_ They asked the Paladins.

“Wonderful, thanks.” Hunk replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. “The bedding’s all together by Lance’s pod. We’ll clean it up after.”

Ti Reen waved one arm slightly while the others wove together to speak. _No need. I clean today anyways._ They made a clicking sound – laughter – one of the few sounds they could make. _I know you three do not like to clean._

“Got us there.” Pidge grinned sheepishly. She looked around for a moment. “Have you seen Shiro? Or where he went?”

Ti Reen huffed in amusement, pointing with one of his upper arms towards the main corridor. _Yes. I believe he went to the west wing._

The hangar? Hunk shared a look with Keith.

Keith nodded.

“Thank you, Ti Reen.”

The assistant waved lazily as the trio all but bolted out the door, down the corridor.

Running across the villa took about two minutes, and nothing was said between the three of them. Hunk’s mind was racing. _Shiro is definitely in the hangar… but what is he doing?_ _Maybe asking Black for advice?_

Finally they came to the short stairwell, and the door beyond.

It took a moment, but Hunk spotted the unmistakable Black Paladin meditating in front of the Black and Blue lions. His head was bowed, and his hands were resting on his knees. The trio crept up behind him, then all settled in a small semi-circle around him. Pidge opted to sprawl out on her back while Keith and Hunk sat crosslegged.

Hunk could tell from his facial expression that he was not in his own body. He was immersed in a meld with Black.

So he definitely was talking to her. _It could take a while_ , Hunk speculated. Anywhere from one to four hours could be expected. Just as the usual mind meld was unreliable timewise at best, the mind meld that was held by the lions was also messed up when it came to time. “This will take a while.” He sighed.

* * *

  _“I strongly advise against this course of action.”_

_“I understand your hesitancy.” Shiro stood before the Black Lion, small, humble, like a child. She was in a smaller form today, opting to resemble a flesh and blood lioness with shimmering black fur. ‘Smaller’, however, was relative. Shiro in all of his height wasn’t taller than her chest._

_She eyed him, ears flicked back. Her yellow eyes bore into him, unimpressed. “But you request that I release the Blue Lion.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Are you sure this is the best way, my Paladin?”_

_“The Blue Lion is ready to come back. Her Paladin also.”_

_“You sound confident, yet I sense that you feel ill prepared.”_

_“It would be out of our hands as soon as Blue wakes up–” he laughed weakly “–it’s only human for me to worry.”_

_The Black Lion chuffed. “Only human. Of course.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And why take the risk?”_

_“If we were worried about risk we never would have left Arus.”_

_She sighed and turned her head, and Shiro followed her gaze. His eyes rested on the form that was laid on its side. If he looked at it from one way, it took the form of a lion like Black, but from a different angle it shimmered into a creature with wispy tendrils that floated in the air, and yet on another angle it looked like a spike of ice._

_“Under your request I have contained the Blue Lion.” Black’s golden gaze slid back to Shiro, meeting his eyes. “And by your request, I will relinquish my hold.”_

_Shiro sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He sent her strong feelings of gratitude, and he could feel her take them, and hold them gingerly within her own consciousness._

_She couldn’t smile as a lion, but Shiro felt her grant one to him through their bond. “You will soon see the Blue Paladin. Now go.”_

* * *

 Pidge grumbled, flipping onto her back for the third time. She knew that the Black Lion took her sweet time in mind melds with Shiro. She knew that Black was uptight and did not like to take risks. But Pidge also knew that Black was extremely fond of Shiro (okay, Green told her that one) and was likely to bend to his request.

She checked her ticker, groaning about the time. _Midday_. Pidge groaned, keeling over. So much waiting – they weren’t getting a thing done at this rate!

She checked Shiro’s posture again. He showed no sign of wavering from his perfect form of meditation. Pidge squinted. His face was still - wait.

Yes. His eyebrow twitched.

Pidge flipped over again and crawled up to Shiro, her face mere inches away from his. Hunk lifted his head in concern, about to say something, but decided against it.

He was expecting, and wasn’t surprised, the moment that Shiro’s eyes flew open.

The Black Paladin made a noise of astonishment, falling backwards onto his elbows, and Pidge awkwardly flailed away. “You’re awake?”

Shiro panted for a moment, reeling from the surprise. “I am now.”

“Oh good.” Keith said, straightening out his legs. “You can tell us what’s up then. The lions are all quiet, and you left us at Lance’s pod without saying a thing.”

Shiro stood with a grunt, and the rest of the team followed suit. “Sorry about that.” He looked up at the Black Lion. “I woke up this morning and it just… came to me… the entire time, the most important player was being kept out of the equation was being swept under the rug.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed. “We took everything into consideration.”

“Wait-” Pidge stopped him. “-We… just thought wrong.”

There was a moment, but Hunk broke the silence.

“Blue.”

“Exactly.” Shiro said. “We helped him come back a lot, especially you three - I can hardly take credit – but the one Lance needs most is the one that has the strongest physiological connection with him: Blue.”

“How did I miss – how could I _not_ _realise that_?” Pidge deflated visibly, groaning. Her hands went into her hair and grabbed tufts of it to pull at. “Hunk, slap me, I have done the unforgivable.”

Hunk resisted, despite Pidge falling directly face first into his upheld palms with a pitiful muffled scream. “Pidge, no, we’re friends.” He collected her, grabbing her shoulders. “Blue wasn’t doing well after her first time reaching out to Lance. There was nothing you could’ve done until now.”

Pidge went boneless when Hunk released her, falling forward. Her face planted directly into his shoulder, groaning.

Hunk patted her back, and when he spoke, Pidge felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest against her cheek. “So Blue is free now, Shiro?”

“All we need to do is put that keystone component you guys were talking about in, and Black will ease off. Pidge, we need you to do that for us.”

Pidge peeled herself off of Hunk, brushing her hair back confidently. “It will only take a minute.” She promptly turned on her heel, then bolted off, her earlier floppiness completely forgotten. The scaffolding that stretched up Blue’s shoulder seemed like an endless climb, and she nearly slipped on the lion’s neck when she scrambled up the back of the head. Hunk shouted when she lost her footing, and she flashed him an impish grin.

The men stayed a good distance away on the ground, probably wary of what Blue might do when she comes back online.

Pidge pried up the hatch and dropped into Blue’s cockpit, which was lit a faint turquoise that came in pulsating waves from the displays and panel lighting, almost like a heartbeat.

She avoided instinctively sitting in the pilot’s chair as she pulled closer to the dashboard, where there was a tiny panel that had been kept open, specifically for this occasion. They hadn’t been able to install a switch, because Blue easily could override that – they had had to keep two circuits completely separated.

Pidge’s hand hovered over the wires, her mind was buzzing. The presence of the lions had surged forward after Shiro’s audience with Black and she could feel Green rubbing against her conscious like a cat. Yellow and Red were off in the background with Hunk and Keith, but their manifestations were heavy enough around her as well. Black felt like a mountain in the distance, only a thin thread of herself extended out to Shiro, and the rest was smothering a faint whisper of Blue.

Green’s conscience warmed, spurring Pidge on with friendly encouragement. _We are ready_. She seemed to say.

In one swift moment, Pidge cinched the circuits together, the clips snapping loudly.

Black’s presence shifted, and in a split second, the lion around Pidge hummed to life, light filling the cockpit, holodisplays flickering into existence and rolling through the startup protocol excitedly. The new cockpit around Pidge thrummed with energy, and she heard Blue’s pleased purr rumble through the hangar. Keith and Hunk shouted excitedly.

A warm feeling bloomed in Pidge’s chest. She patted the dashboard. “Bring him home, girl.”

* * *

  _Lance sat on the floor of his room, staring into his mirror. Whenever he lifted his hand or tilted his head, the man in the mirror copied him._ No, that’s me. _He constantly had to remind himself. Even though he knew it was him, it still felt strange and unnatural._

_The rest of the house was silent, something that reminded him that this really wasn’t home – until he heard something very, very faint._

Humming.

 _Lance bolted up and out into the hallway, clutching the doorframe. “Mama?” He called out. The humming suddenly cut off in surprise._ I wasn’t imagining it! _Lance took off down the hall, heart pounding. “Mama?!” He swung down the stairs._

_Nobody in the hall._

_Nobody in the kitchen._

_He turned to look in the living room across the hall._

_“You’re not my Mama.”_

_The woman on the couch perked up her ears. Like,_ ears _. The woman had flicking cat ears that peaked out from her enormous mane of tawny hair. She sat straight backed on the edge of the cushion, her dress smoothed out over her knees._

 _“_ Definitely _not my Mama.”_

_She stood fluidly and smiled, electric blue eyes crinkling at the edges. “No, definitely not.”_

_Lance’s face split into a smile as well. “_ Blue _.”_

_Before he even knew it, Lance had crossed the room and found himself enveloped in her arms. She tucked his head under her chin and held him tightly. She squeezed him like she was scared he’d disappear, whispering into his hair. “My Paladin.”_

_Lance hugged her tightly back, breathing her presence in. His fists bunched up the fabric of the back of her dress. Her presence washed over him, calming anxieties, warming him to the core. The thin coat of fur on her collarbone ticked his face, but he didn’t care. It felt euphoric to have Blue close to him like this in his mind. He had never seen her in this form before, and even though she could take on any form imaginable, she always felt the same._ This was his Blue _._

_“My sweet, sweet, child.” She said, voice comfortingly low. She nuzzled the top of his head. “How I missed you.”_

_“I missed you too…” he choked out. Tears welled in his eyes, wetting Blue’s fur. He realised what he was doing and pulled back, wiping his eyes with his hand. “Sorry.”_

_Blue’s brows had been drawn together in confusion when he had pulled away, but her expression now softened, and her hands raised to card gently through his hair. “Shhhhh,” she calmed him. “All is well.”_

_“No, no,” He said, “I hurt you so bad, Blue! You were only trying to help me but I just pushed you away and Hunk told me you were shut down by Black and –”_

_“Shhhh,” Blue said again, holding him close to her chest once more. “Do not let these things trouble you anymore, love. We now are together again, are we not?” Lance hesitated, then quietly agreed, nodding into her fur. It was growing extremely damp now, thanks to him, but Blue didn’t seem to mind. “My corporeal form is whole once more, thanks to the efforts of the Green and Yellow Paladins. Your body is whole as well, I believe.”_

_He nodded. Hunk had told him_.

_“But you are not ready to return yet, I sense.”_

_The Blue Paladin stiffened, ceasing his breathing. After a moment of hesitation, he exhaled, peeling himself from Blue so he could look her in the yes. “I wanna go back, to be with the others. I really do. But… I don’t… I don’t think I’m ready.”_

_Blue observed him carefully, hands cupping his face with care. “That is understandable. You have been through much, and that is nothing to take lightly. Taking your time is… only human.”_

_Lance gave a small noncommittal laugh, shrugging. “I guess that’s how to describe it.”_

_“We can rest. I can stay with you until you are ready to return to the real world.” Blue led him to the couch she had sat on earlier, the one that had the stain on the backrest, and the burned foam on the underside of the cushion from the time he and Mia had made a pillow fort and used a bare lamp as a support. Lance settled next to Blue quietly, his head resting on her shoulder._

_“I like this.”_

* * *

  _Back already?_ Ti Reen chirred. They observed the four paladins that were coming back into the Physician’s Hall. They were carrying a large pile of curtains in their lower set of arms, taken down from the north end of the hall for washing.

Pidge smiled winningly. “Well, the Villa is only moderately huge, so it wasn’t too hard to find Shiro.” Shiro waved sheepishly, smiling weakly behind her.

 _Four hours?_ Ti Reen’s one eyebrow shifted far up in surprise.

“You make it sound like we could’ve gone faster!”

“We also stopped for a snack break in the parlour!” Hunk added on quickly, hanging an arm around Pidge’s shoulders awkwardly.

Ti Reen waved their free hand, rolling their eyes knowingly. _It’s good that you are back._ They signed. _I take you up on your offer to help clean._

Keith groaned quietly, but Hunk just shrugged and smiled weakly. “Why not?”

 _Then you can clean the rest for me_. Ti Reen swept past them with a knowing look in their eyes, leaving the Physician’s Hall. They weren’t capable of winking, but if they were, Hunk was sure that they would take the opportunity to do it.

Pidge made an immediate beeline for the pods, much like the day before. The rest of them weren’t ten feet away before Pidge groaned and started hitting her forehead against the pod barrier. “For _heck’s_ sake-” _whack_ “-why can’t he just _hecking-” whack_ “-wake the _heck_ up?!” _WHACK_!

“I take it he’s still under,” Shiro said. He strode up behind her, taking Pidge by the shoulders and removing her from head-hitting distance of the pod. Lance, under the tinted barrier, still didn’t move.

“ _Yesssssssssssss_.” She groaned.

“Take a step back,” Shiro coaxed, pivoting her away from the pod. “Come on. He’ll come out when he’s done talking to Blue. In the meanwhile, we can do those chores Ti Reen asked us to do.”

It was a good idea, to busy themselves with menial tasks until Lance came back, Hunk figured. Pidge bitched for a bit, but Hunk happily set to work. It would all be okay soon, and that was enough.

* * *

  _Lance grit his teeth as Voltron scattered, sending Blue rocketing into the side of a towering sand dune. Voltron as a whole wasn’t doing too hot on the desert planet of Kurtan, but Blue was responding slowly and struggled with the sandy terrain._

_Hunk had been covering his ass the entirety of the fight, as Yellow was totally in her element._

_But the robeast was as well._

_It was a giant scaly behemoth that sluiced through the sand like it was water; its cries were strong enough to split rock and cause Voltron to shatter back into individual lions._

_The beast dove headfirst back into the sand, throwing the terrain once more to heave like a storming sea. Blue strained to escape the tumultuous landscape, repeatedly bashed by flying walls of sand. Lance threw his weight fully into the thruster, yelling for her to_ just GO! _Come on!_

_Blue’s entire frame squealed from the strain, but Lance kept pushing. He couldn’t drag the others down just because of an elemental drawback. Sure, Kurtan was only ten percent water, but he knew Blue could as least help._

_Through a narrow slot, Blue was able to shoot up into the air to reconvene with the other Paladins._

_“So Voltron definitely doesn’t work on this one,” Shiro speculated. “Sorry, everyone. Apparently third time isn’t the charm.”_

_“I say we leave this guy alone now.” Hunk suggested. “No inhabitants anyways – can we just leave the robeast to its sandbox? Not like it can leave.”_

_“Not an option.” Shiro replied._

_Lance sighed in exhaustion. The Alliance Council wanted this planet to build a new communications base. In order for that to happen, the death lizard kind of had to vamoose. And since Death Lizard most likely had been dumped on the planet as a failed experiment from Haggar, it was even more of a wildcard. The Council wanted it gone, so it had to go, because_ space democracy _._

_The Lions hovered warily over the sand, which had settled down._

_The robeast had done this before – it buried itself and then came up out of the sand like a monstrous jack-in-the-box._

_Lance breathed deeply, trying to clear his head._

_Blue rumbled somewhere deep in her inner workings, emanating feelings of unease that flooded into Lance and made his head feel light. “Just hang in there, beautiful.” He tried to calm her, patting her controls._

_“Guys,” Pidge said, “the robeast isn’t showing on any scanners.”_

_“What?!” Hunk squeaked._

_“It’s completely gone – it’s not on any of my radars.” Pidge said. “It’s like it fell off the map…”_

_“This isn’t some videogame, Pidge,” Shiro said. “It had to have gone somewhere.”_

_“Probably realized how strong we are and ran for the hills!” Lance laughed. He tried to keep the waver out of his voice. The others couldn’t know how vulnerable he and Blue were like this._

_“Unlikely, sorry Lance.” Shiro moved Black upwards. “Alright team, let’s split up and cover some ground. That robeast has to be somewhere around here. Pidge, you go north. Hunk: west. Lance – Lance_ look out!”

_Lance suddenly was thrown forward in the cockpit, head smashing the dash._

_Blue swung wildly in the air, her alarms screeching in Lance’s ears as he was flung across the cockpit in a horrifying jolt._

_Everybody was yelling over the comms, but Lance couldn’t hear them over the ringing in his head and Blue’s refrain of_ Danger! Danger! _Halfway through pulling himself off the floor, Blue gave him her eyes._

The robeast had speared straight up and had clipped her flank with its maw. Now it was rounding back, coming right for _– Blue barreled off to the side to evade, but those enormous jaws snapped closed right on top of Blue’s head._

_Enormous rows of teeth ground over the top of Blue’s cockpit. The metal squealed as it was torn back like tissue paper. The chassis shuddered. Lance could hear his friends more clearly through his bleary ears, calling for him. Yelling. Screaming._

_Suddenly Lance snapped back, and the first thing to escape his mouth was a terrified yell. Blue kicked wildly in the beast’s hold. She was panicking. Lance was panicking._

_“Guys!” He cried out. Blue’s screens sparked, disappearing when the cockpit jolted again. His screens where gone. “_ Guys _!”_

 _No no no_ no no no!

_With the last winking connection with Blue, Lance knew that the cockpit had torn free from Blue, pulled out by twisting appendages that ripped through Blue’s armor._

_Everything went black._

* * *

  _Lance seized up, feet knocking each other and his head jolting from its position on Blue’s lap. He was breathing heavily, sides heaving. Blue made calming noises, dabbing away the cold sweat from his forehead._

_He was scrunching her dress again. He quickly released his white-knuckle hold on the silk. “I’m sorry.”_

_“You mustn’t apologise.” Blue said gently._

_She combed her fingers through his hair again slowly, waiting until his heart slowed to a regular pace. “You dreamed about our separation.”_

_It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Of course she knew. They were in the mind meld. That, and their minds were inextricably linked through some weird Altean scientific magic. There was no point in lying to her._

_“Yah.”_

_“You mustn’t blame yourself. It just wasn’t our day.”_

_“Heh. We’ve had better.” Lance said. He wearily sat up, straightening out his own t-shirt, then the rumples he had put in Blue’s dress. Blue steadied him upright, watching him carefully. “But I’m going to get better.”_

_“So then you’re ready to go back?”_

_Lance startled. “No… I thought we were going to do that here. I mean, Hunk never_ said _where it was going to happen, but I thought it was going to be here.”_

_“You can only go so far within the confines of your own mind, Lance.”_

_“I guess you’re right.”_

_Blue brought her hands up to his face to cup it. “There you go. We’ve all missed you greatly.” He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. “Let’s go home.”_

_Lance nodded. It was now or never. He stood slowly, ignoring the slight vertigo he was feeling. “Yah. Let’s go.”_

_It was almost dreamlike._

_Through the doorway. Into the hallway. Into the foyer. Blue took his coat off the rack, then helped Lance put it on._ One arm. Two arms. _She gently guided him through it all, encouraging him in every small action. Her presence soothed every nerve over like honey._

_Everything was calm until…_

_The door._

_Lance stood before it, everything suddenly clear and sharp edged. He froze completely, his mental process stalled._

_Blue’s hand touched on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?”_

_Lance looked to her hesitantly. “I just… what if I can’t get better?”_

_Her reassuring smile was warmer than the sun. “You will, child. If not today, then tomorrow. And I will be with you through it all.”_

_“Together?”_

_“Together.”_

_Her hand lifted his over the handle of the door, and with a soft push, it opened._

* * *

 Hunk was relieved when Eurelle came into the Physician’s Hall. Her nose was buried in the handheld she was carrying, and her pace was brisk, but her very presence made everyone drop the anxious air that was taut between them all.

Being disappointed once again at Lance’s podside, they had all, defeated, went about the task of cleaning that Ti Reen had graciously given them. Shiro and Keith had taken down the rest of the curtains and piled them in a laundry bin, then went to work stripping the beds. Keith was trying his hand at fixing the frame of one of the beds. He was currently on the floor.

Pidge was cleaning the empty medical pods, using that as an excuse to periodically check on Lance’s stats. And Hunk was sweeping out the corners of the room, collecting the Boan Ten leaves that had fallen into the hall and dumping them back out the window.

It had been an hour, but Hunk’s count, which wasn’t too bad. Shiro had always been good at waiting. However, it was absolutely killing Pidge and Keith.

She greeted all of them without looking up from whatever she was reading; stepping over Keith on the floor like it was an obstacle she went over every day. She only looked up once she reached Lance’s pod.

“Have any of you been tinkering with the controls on Paladin Lance’s pod?”

“What?” Pidge’s face screwed up comically. _God I wish_ was written all over her face.

“I received alerts that Paladin Lance’s vitals were changing.”

Pidge darted out from the pod she was cleaning, dropping the tool. She went right up next to Eurelle, squishing against her. “Where? How?”

Eurelle side stepped, allowing Pidge to view the main screen. “He showed a spike in brain activity. A very sudden spike that settled, but is now steadily rising to normal levels.”

Hearing that, everyone else shot up to the pod. Hunk stood directly in front of the barrier, scanning Lance’s face for anything, _anything_ , that gave away Lance being somewhere in there, coming back to them.

Keith shoved in beside Hunk, nose almost pressed against the barrier, he was so close. “So he’s waking up?”

“That’s what the readings are suggesting.” Eurelle said hesitantly. “I don’t want to poke around too much and ruin whatever he’s doing… however, I can set the pod to automatically release when he’s ready to come out.”

Hunk shared a meaningful glance with Pidge. It was full of excitement and glee – he could swear he saw a little tear forming up in the corner of Pidge’s eye.

This was what they had been working so hard for. This moment where Lance could finally come back to them all and their team and the hole that ached in all of them could be filled. There was a part of Hunk that felt like it was all too good to be true – the fact that their plan was actually working was impossible and Lance would just relapse and leave them all hanging again.

“He moved!” Keith burst out excitedly.

“Wait, what?” Hunk immediately cursed himself for not seeing it.

Shiro came in behind the two of them. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Keith huffed. His brows drew together in concentration as he looked harder at Lance. “The corner of his mouth. It twitched.”

“Guys…” Pidge reached out her hand to tap Shiro’s shoulder, suddenly her gentle touch turning into rapid succession of taps. “Guys, guys guys guys guys it’s _opening_. The pod’s opening!”

There was a soft puff of cold air that was released as the barrier dissolved in the breeze. A second puff came from Lance as he slowly listed forwards, eyes still sealed shut.

Hunk caught his friend, arms wrapping immediately around that skinny frame.

Lance’s face was buried in Hunk’s shoulder, breathing evening out into a long rattling exhale. His arms lifted shakily to hug Hunk back. His grip was pitiable, and _God_ Hunk was ready to cry.

He felt Lance smile. “Hey guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a heartfelt A/N!  
> So this story started out as my 2016 NaNoWriMo project, and I was pretty set on getting this out as my first ever NaNo fanfic. My only other Fanfic that has exceeded 50k took me over two years to write and was over 130k (which I gag at now and makes me cry to think how much time I wasted on that dumpster fire). This fic doesn’t exactly make it over the 50k mark, but I’ve come to think of it as my last hurrah for fic writing in High School: having the plot outlined in October, and having the final chapter published the day before graduation.  
> I’ve had a lot of fun writing it, especially including some of the home life scenarios from the Paladins, because much of it is reminiscent of my own childhood. My mom banned cinnamon hearts from our church pew, but the most direct reference is the couch cushion mentioned in chapter 10 (my brother and I used a naked lamp as well, and didn’t realise it had burned halfway through the foam until we smelled it… whoops…).  
> I also have all of you fine people to thank for this fic! The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive and I appreciate each and every one of you guys that commented and/or left kudos. I am but a simple whump farmer, and the feedback waters the whump crop. I nearly gave up on several occasions, but every time I felt shitty about this fic a new comment would pop up in my inbox (are you guys psychics like holy crap).
> 
> Thanks so much for putting up with my shit,  
> PotatoBender <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come check me out at [my tumblr](http://pidge-the-pigeon.tumblr.com/)!


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